


Incomplete

by Isabella2004



Category: All Creatures Great and Small (TV), All Creatures Great and Small - James Herriot
Genre: Angst, Attraction, Brothers, Death, Drama, F/M, Lost Love, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:34:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 129,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26580724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isabella2004/pseuds/Isabella2004
Summary: He had loved her, would have done anything for her and yet, when she had needed him the most, he had let her down. He had lived with the regret ever since and now, five years later, he might have the chance to make it right.
Relationships: Siegfried Farnon/OC
Comments: 26
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on the 2020 TV series but isn’t (and won’t be) entirely true to canon as I started it whilst the series was ongoing.
> 
> For my own purposes, therefore, in 1937 Siegfried is 45, Tristan is 24 and James is 25. I realise Siegfried is older than he perhaps should be but this is to tie in with the reference in episode 3 of him having been in the Army Veterinary Corps at Ypres in 1917 when I’ve imagined him to be 25 and a newly qualified vet. 
> 
> In addition, I’ve written Siegfried as having married his late wife Evelyn in 1913 when he was 21 and her dying in 1917 whilst he was at war, which is again different from canon, in that she actually died in 1933. The longer time period serves my purposes better for this story.
> 
> Please leave some kudos or a review, good or bad, if you can! I own nothing you recognise.

**PROLOGUE**

**24** **June 1937**

He could hear the sounds of the village coming to life outside his bedroom window.

Summer had well and truly arrived in Darrowby, the morning glow streaming through the net curtains that softly billowed in the gentle breeze, sent to provide momentary respite from the warmth of the day to come. It was the time of day that Siegfried Farnon loved best, those moments when he would simply lie in bed, listen, think and feel before the routine of the day took over.

His thoughts were many and varied. Sometimes he thought about the calls he knew he had to make that day. Sometimes he thought about the calls that might come through that day for tomorrow. Sometimes he thought about how different this day might be from the one before or the one to come. Sometimes he thought about how life altogether could have been different if different choices had been made in the past...

The latter thoughts never brought him any great comfort and it was when he allowed his mind to stray there that he always found himself swinging his legs over the bed and rising to greet the day. A brief wash at the basin, a change of clothes and he was ready. Another day as Darrowby's premier veterinarian. Or, he thought to himself rather charitably, at least one of them.

When he opened his bedroom door, the smell of that morning's breakfast wafted along the corridor towards him and he felt his stomach rumble as he descended down the stairs and headed into the kitchen.

"Morning James," he greeted his assistant with assured cheerfulness.

"Morning Siegfried," James Herriot replied, pouring himself some tea from the pot Mrs Hall had just placed in the middle of the table. "It looks like being another beautiful day."

"Yes, it does, doesn't it?" he turned and looked out of the window. "A perfect day indeed to start the pig inoculations!"

James paused, "Pig inoculations?"

"Yes, it's always such an enjoyable task. I made a list of the relevant farms yesterday and we can split it so that it shouldn't take too long. You can take that feckless brother of mine with you, if he ever decides to get out of bed at a decent hour that is."

"'e's already been an' gone," Mrs Hall remarked, placing a plate of bacon and eggs down in front of him. "Said he wanted to run up to the Salter farm and check on those ewes."

"Well, wonders will never cease," Siegfried replied. "Perhaps we shall make a vet out of him after all."

"You're too 'ard on him."

"I'm nothing of the sort. He needs a firm hand. Well when he comes back with the car, assuming that he will, you and he can start on your share of the list, James."

"Don't forget your other calls," Mrs Hall reminded him. "Everything else doesn't just stop because it's time for pigs to get their injections." She paused for a moment. "I…eh…'ad a call from Tom Bailey yesterday," Reaching for the teapot, she poured herself a cup, the flow of liquid against china the only sound for what seemed like the longest time.

"Oh," Siegfried said, caught slightly off guard. "I…eh…well…he…he's been using Paddy Trotter's services these last few years," he replied, lifting the pot for himself and trying to avoid his housekeeper's gaze. "What…eh…what did he want?"

"Someone to go up and look at one of ‘is ‘orses. I didn't ask why ‘e 'ad decided to come back to us and he didn't offer to explain. I added ‘I’m to James's list. I 'ope you don't mind."

Siegfried glanced over at James who was obliviously cutting into his bacon and felt a slight sliver of relief at the fact he wouldn't have to face Bailey, not to mention gratitude that Mrs Hall had had the foresight to recognise his discomfort at the prospect. "No, that's fine," he said. "Be good for James to gain some experience in dealing with difficult customers."

James paused and looked over at him. "I've been here almost six months. You think I haven't had that experience already?"

"Not from Tom Bailey you haven't."

"Don't you listen to him, James," Mrs Hall said encouragingly. "Bailey's bark is worse than his bite, mark my words."

Siegfried met her gaze this time, a thousand unspoken words passing between them. Naively, he had always assumed she had been on his side, supported him in the choices that he had made and the actions done or, in some cases, not done. They had never really discussed it, such a thing being improper despite the warmth of their relationship, and there was no trace of malice in her expression, yet he couldn't help but wonder if she harboured thoughts that could be, in some way, not too far from his own.

"I'm sure you'll do fine, James," he said, spearing some bacon with his fork. "Like I said, all good experience for you."

**XXXX**

"You're the new one then."

James paused at the stable door and turned back to where Tom Bailey was standing behind hm. A tall, heavyset man, he didn't look like someone with whom he would like to trifle and, for a brief moment, he inwardly cursed Tristan for having refused to come with him.

"Tom Bailey?" the younger man had said when James had explained he had been added to his list for the day. "I'm not going up there."

"Why not?"

"Well, because…just because," Tristan had floundered. "Why don't you do your calls and then come back here and pick me up for the pig inoculations? I think that sounds like the fairest thing all round." Before James had had a chance to protest, Tristan had thumped him on the back and promptly disappeared.

"The new one?" he echoed, forcing his mind back to the present moment.

"The new assistant," Tom said. "Farnon's new assistant."

"I suppose I am," he replied, "though I've been in Darrowby now for almost six months, so I don't know if I still qualify as being all that new."

"You're new to me."

"Yes…well…quite. Shall I take a look then?" Without waiting for further instruction, he swung open the stall door and stepped inside to where the horse in question was waiting. His front feet were stretched out in front of him, his hind feet positioned underneath, his body weight pressed against the back of the stall. As James approached, he skittered slightly, clearly unsure of his visitor. "Whoa boy, take it easy…" he said softly, reaching up and gently touching the horse's neck. "That's it…it's ok…"

"What's wrong with ‘im?"

"Well I won't know until I properly examine him but…"

"So, examine ‘im then. Thought you were supposed to be a bloody vet!"

James opened his mouth to reply when a female voice floated into the stall from outside. "Give the man a chance, Dad. He's only been here five minutes." Turning, he saw an auburn-haired woman slide past Tom and come into the stall behind him. "I told him I thought it might be laminitis but obviously I'm no expert."

"I was thinking along the same lines myself," James replied with a smile. "I just need to have a proper look at his feet."

"I can hold him for you," she said, moving to the side and taking hold of the horse's headcollar. "In case he starts thrashing about."

"Thanks." He put his bag down and then, one by one, lifted the horse's feet, whilst the woman whom he could only assume was Tom's daughter muttered soothing words. "Well," he said finally. "Your diagnosis was correct."

"Bloody laminitis?!" Tom boomed from the doorway. "Well that's just bloody fantastic, isn't it?"

"It's treatable," James said, "but you'll need to make sure that he sticks to a grass hay diet for a while and that the shavings in here are changed regularly, otherwise it could get worse. There are no abscesses that I can see at the moment, but you'll need to keep an eye out and call me back out immediately if they appear so that I can drain them. Hopefully, he should be right as rain in a few weeks."

Tom uttered a mouthful of expletives and then turned away from the stall, kicking the wall violently as he did so.

"Pay no attention to him," his daughter said. "He loves all our animals as though they were his own children. He hates it if anything's wrong with any of them." She patted the horse's neck again and then held out her hand, her clear blue eyes meeting his. "I'm Lily. Lily Bailey.

"James Herriot."

"Nice to meet you James. You're not from round these parts then."

"No, Glasgow." He closed his bag. "Forgive me for saying, but you don't sound like you're from round these parts either."

She blushed slightly and looked away, "I've spent some time in London over the last few years. People there often find it hard to understand a Northern accent, so I tried to tone it down and it seems to have stuck. My father thinks I'm too 'posh' now for the farm."

They emerged from the stables back out into the morning sunshine and Lily closed and bolted the stall door behind them. "I'll make sure that we do what you've suggested."

"You sound almost like you could be a vet yourself," he laughed.

"Maybe at one time it might have been a silly dream."

"Hardly a _silly_ dream."

She laughed, "Well…things change don't they. I'm too old now anyway."

He was poised to tell her that didn't seem true, but stopped himself in time. "My partner said that your father usually uses Mr Trotter for his veterinary needs. I think he was surprised when Mrs Hall said that he had contacted us instead."

Lily paled slightly and looked away again. "Well…between you and me, James, Paddy Trotter's an old goat that I wouldn't trust as far as I could throw him. When I arrived back here a few weeks ago and found out Dad had been using him, I told him that it was a mistake. So, when Oscar started to go lame, I told him he should phone Skeldale House."

"Well, we're very grateful," James said, turning back towards the car.

"How…uh…how is Siegfried…Mr Farnon, I mean?"

"Oh…his usual self. Do you know him well?"

She paused slightly before nodding. "Yes, yes I do. Well, it was very nice meeting you, James. No doubt we'll be seeing you again before long."

"No doubt," he agreed, opening the car door and climbing inside. As he slowly meandered his way down towards the main road, he glanced back in the mirror to see her standing atop the hill, watching him leave.

**XXXX**

James's visit to the Bailey farm had been playing on Siegfried's mind all day, though the sheer variety of calls he had required to make, coupled with the ever present excitement of the pig inoculations, had forced him to think about other things. When his mind had been free to wander, however, he couldn't help returning to the farm on the windswept hill. It had been more than five years since he had been there, told in no uncertain terms that he was not welcome to ever return, and he had taken Tom Bailey's words and lived by them, never once passing within sight of the property in all that time.

Dinner had been a fairly quiet affair, everyone tired after the day's efforts. He had noted Tristan stealing glances at him on regular occasions, the look on his face indicating that he wanted to say something and yet wasn't quite sure if he had the courage to. In any other situation, he might have called his younger brother out on it but given that he was fairly sure that they were probably thinking about the same thing, he elected to remain silent. That evening, Tristan took himself off to bed early and Mrs Hall declared that she was going to do some baking for the morning and so Siegfried found himself alone with James in the sitting room.

"How did you get on with Tom Bailey?" he asked, casually flipping through the letters that Mrs Hall had left on the side.

"He was as irascible as you suggested he would be," James replied ruefully. "I confess he made me quite nervous."

"And what was the problem with his horse?"

"Laminitis, but I think we caught it in good time. Not that he really needed my diagnosis," he laughed.

"Really, why was that?"

"His daughter seemed quite the vet herself. She had already diagnosed it before I had had the chance to take a look for myself. Not to mention the fact that I think my experience with her father would most likely have been a lot worse if she hadn't been there."

Siegfried froze, a chill sweeping suddenly over him despite the closeness of the sitting room and he turned slowly back around to look at his assistant, now ensconced in the armchair glancing through the newspaper. "His what?"

"What?"

"Bailey's...what?"

"His daughter," James replied without lifting his head. "She seemed very able at keeping him in check. What was her name again…?"

"Lily."

"That's right, Lily." James looked up, "She was asking for you, actually. I told her that you were well."

"She…she asked for me?" Siegfried asked weakly.

"Yes. She said that she had been in London for a while but that she had come home…" James continued to talk, but Siegfried had no understanding of what the other man was saying. His voice seemed to fade away into the distance as a rushing noise started in his ears and, without further recourse or explanation, he turned and made his way out of the sitting room and towards the stairs, just as Mrs Hall came out of the kitchen.

"Oh," she said upon seeing him, "would you like…?"

"No, thank you."

"But it's…"

"I said no thank you!" His tone was harsher than he intended, and he couldn't fail to see the look of wounded surprise on her face. At that moment, however, he could focus on nothing else except his own immediate feelings and he hurriedly climbed the stairs to his bedroom, closing and locking the door behind him before sinking down onto the bed, his heart pounding in his chest, a slight sweat breaking out on his brow.

Lily…she was there. She was on the farm at the top of the hill. She was so close and yet so far.

Dear, sweet Lily…

"Oh, my darling," he whispered to no-one in particular, "my darling…" Rolling over onto his stomach, he reached under the bed and felt for the small wooden box that he kept there, pushed against the far wall under the headboard. His fingers brushed against it and he pulled it towards himself, finally lifting it up and onto the bed beside him. As he reached for the drawer beside his bed, he saw that his hand was shaking and, once he had retrieved the small key, found it took two or three attempts before he could slide it gently into the lock.

As he drew the lid back, the familiar scent of her perfume floated up to greet him, captured forever in the pages held within. Slowly, he withdrew the letters one by one, his eyes dancing over the prose as he took in the words that she had written, only realising as they blurred before his eyes that he was weeping.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the purposes of this ‘Part’ of the story, Siegfried is 39/40 Tristan is 18/19, Lily is 27/28 and Evelyn has been dead for 14/15 years.

**PART ONE**

**4** **March 1931**

**Six years earlier**

"Siegfried Farnon? What kind of name's that then?"

Siegfried paused as he was about to open his bag and glanced over his shoulder to where the farmer addressing him was leaning back against the field gate, eying him with nothing short of suspicion. "It's my name, I can assure you."

"Sounds…odd."

"Odd?"

"Aye…odd."

"Well…" he wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, so chose to focus on examining the hindquarters of the horse in front of him instead. "No more odd than your own name, surely?"

"Thomas Bailey is a good old English name. I'm not so sure about _Siegfried Farnon._ John Grant. Now there was a good name. He'll be a ‘ard act to follow around ‘ere, you mark my words."

"No doubt," Siegfried replied as good naturedly at he could. He had been in Darrowby almost three months and the name of his deceased predecessor was often upon the lips of the famers he met in the day to day routine of his role as country vet. By all accounts, Grant had been some sort of latter-day saint, ministering to the flocks and herds of the good countryside folk right up until the night before he had sadly died of pneumonia. When he had arrived in the village, the new owner of the local veterinary practice, it had seemed as though the whole place had been in mourning. Thankfully, Audrey Hall, Grant's housekeeper, had been keen to remain in position and he had gladly welcomed her knowledge and understanding as he found his feet.

"What's up with 'er then?" Tom's voice broke back into his thoughts and he gently stroked the horse's back.

"It's sweet itch. I can give you something for it that should hopefully clear it right up. But I'd best have a look at the others whilst I'm here, make sure none of them have it too. It can be very irritating to the poor beasts, but it's not serious."

"Hmmm…" Tom pushed himself away from the fence. "There's the ones in 'ere then there's four more in the field down there," he pointed down the hill. "When you're done, come t'kitchen and our Lily'll make you a brew."

"Well that's very kind, thank you," Siegfried replied, but the other man had already gone, loping across the yard towards the sheds without so much as a backwards glance. "Very kind indeed." He examined the remaining horses in the paddock, then followed where Tom had pointed and made his way down a track to a field on the side of the hill where the remaining horses were waiting. A check of them all revealed that another two also had the condition and, as he turned to make his way back up towards the farmhouse, he paused to take in the view before him.

Windy Hill Farm was fairly aptly named. Sat atop a hill looking down the valley towards the village, he could certainly imagine the ferocity of a winter wind in the exposed fields. Thankfully, it was fairly calm for early March a light, yet insistent, breeze rustling the grass.

"Beautiful," he murmured to himself. "Quite beautiful."

As he traversed the track back up to the yard, he couldn't help but hope that Tom wouldn't be within the kitchen. The scrutiny was almost too much to bear sometimes and Bailey had struck him as the sort of man unwilling to let a matter alone without rigorous interrogation. He found himself speculating as to what Lily, his wife, would be like. Would she be equally as domineering and opinionated, or would she be the epitome of a woman married to, what he could only surmise was, an often difficult man, quiet and subservient?

As he approached the door, he could hear the sound of a female voice, melodic and tuneful, singing a song he didn't recognise and yet which sounded nothing short of wonderful to his ears. He crossed the threshold slightly and peered inside, catching sight of a small, auburn-haired figure over by the sink. Oblivious to his presence, she sang on about the rosebushes and the thorns and suchlike and he found himself quite captivated, until she suddenly turned quickly to face him and let out a sharp scream.

"I'm sorry!" he exclaimed immediately. "I didn't…I mean I…"

"Oh!" she put one hand to her chest. "You did make me jump!"

"My apologies. Mr Bailey said…"

"Of course! You must be Mr Farnon. I'm Lily Bailey. Come in, come in," she waved him into the kitchen and over to the table. "Sit down. I've just made a pot of tea and there's some scones just coming out the oven. Can I tempt you to one with some jam?"

"Oh, well…" he hesitated, caught slightly between the propriety of it and the delicious smell of home baking. "I suppose it would be a shame to have your hard work go to waste."

"Oh, trust me, nothing goes to waste round 'ere," she smiled brightly at him and then turned back to the oven, bending to pull out a wire tray and place it on the top. "I was wondering when we'd finally get to make your acquaintance."

She was younger than he had anticipated. He would have put Tom Bailey in his early sixties and yet his wife seemed no more than twenty-five, thirty, if he was being less than generous and strikingly pretty. Evelyn had been pretty too...so very pretty...he pulled himself back into the present moment. "You were?"

"Oh, yes, talk of the village _you_ are. Taking over from the saintly Mr Grant," she came around to the opposite side of the table and lifted the teapot. "You'd think 'e were the second coming of Christ the way some folk talk about 'im. Not sure I'd like to be in your shoes."

"No…" he mused, "sometimes I'm not entirely sure _I_ like it either. Thank you," he said as she filled a cup for him and then turned back to the oven. Glancing out of the window, he couldn't help but once again admire the views down the rolling hills. "You do live in a very charming spot. Have you and Mr Bailey been here long?"

"I've been 'ere all my life. I were born in the room at the top of the stairs."

"I see…so this is _your_ family farm then, not Mr Bailey's?" Lily placed a plate of scones down on the table in front of him and frowned. "That is to say…I mean, you married him, and he took over the farm here?"

" _Married_ 'im…?" she looked at him agog for a few moments and then burst out laughing. "Oh, Good Lord, you 'ad me going there for a minute. Married 'im! Tom Bailey's not me 'husband, Mr Farnon, 'e's me father!"

"Oh…" he felt suddenly stupid at his error and could feel a blush creeping over his cheeks. "My apologies, I just assumed…well…" he took a long drink of tea to distract himself but couldn't help glancing up at the amusement on her face. "My mistake."

"I don't know whether to be flattered or offended," she said good naturedly, sitting down opposite him and pouring herself a cup. "But don't worry, I won't tell 'im if you won't."

"Oh no, please don't," he replied hurriedly. "Given how difficult it's proving to fill Mr Grant's shoes, the last thing I want to do is upset potential customers by suggesting…well…"

"Dad said it were a problem with the 'orses that brought you out."

"Yes," he said, lifting one of the scones. "A small outbreak of sweet itch."

"Sounds painful."

"It can be." Breaking one open, he spread it with some jam and then bit into it. "This is delicious."

"Oh, thank you," she said, pinking slightly. "Baking is one thing I like to think I'm good at. Is there much you can do to treat sweet itch?"

"Yes, I can leave your father some ointment to apply and he'll have to make sure that the infected areas are well covered to stop further infection, but it's certainly not life-threatening in any way."

"That's good. 'e's crazy about those 'orses. Treats them better than any other animal 'ere, not that 'e don't treat them all well, that is. But 'e's definitely got a soft spot for the 'orses."

"Do you help him much?" he asked conversationally.

"Oh…no," she looked away. "I'm very much 'indoors.' Woman's place is in the 'ome and all that…"

Siegfried opened his mouth to say more, but a shadow fell across the table and, looking up, he saw Tom framed in the doorway. "Ah, Mr Bailey."

"Our Lily's seen you right then," Tom remarked, knocking his boots against the side of the door and then coming over to the table. "Makes the best scones in Darrowby she does."

"Yes, I was complimenting her on how delicious they were," Siegfried replied, momentarily distracted as Lily rose from the table and lifted another cup from the side. He watched as she returned, poured tea into it for her father and then passed it to him before breaking into a scone, spreading it with jam and sliding it over to him.

"Mr Farnon says some of the 'orses have got sweet itch," she said, sitting back down again.

"Nowt for you to be concerning yourself with," Tom replied, stuffing half the scone into his mouth.

"No, I know but…"

"You got many calls to pay today, Mr Farnon?" Tom asked, ignoring his daughter's previous remark.

"Oh, well, yes," Siegfried replied, reaching into his bag. "I've certainly inherited a busy practice. I can leave you this ointment to apply to the infected areas of the horses' hindquarters and I would recommend putting rugs on them, to keep the flies away."

"I will do, thank you." There was a slightly awkward pause. "Well, I wouldn't like to keep you from your other calls."

"Ah…no, no indeed…" Siegfried got to his feet. "It…uh, was very nice meeting you Miss Bailey. Thank you very much for your hospitality. Mr Bailey."

"Nice to meet you too, Mr Farnon," Lily replied, rising along with him. "No doubt we'll be seeing you again."

"No doubt," he nodded. "Good day."

**XXXX**

"So, 'ow was your day?" Mrs Hall asked, sliding a plate of mince and potatoes in front of him later that evening.

"Oh, busy, very busy," Siegfried replied as she sat down opposite him. "But I suppose that can only be a good thing, especially as it allows me to get to know the locals a bit better."

"'ow did you get on up at the Bailey farm?"

"Well, Tom Bailey seems like a decent enough man, if a little demanding. A few of his horses have sweet itch so I'll need to pop back up there in a few days' time to make sure it hasn't spread any further."

"Did you meet 'is daughter?"

"Lily?" he looked up and met her gaze. "Yes, she was very pleasant. Baked a very nice scone, I must say. Almost as good as yours, Mrs Hall."

She smiled indulgently at him. "I 'aven't seen Lily for quite a while now. She used to come to our ladies' group once a month, but all of a sudden, she just stopped attending. Nobody knows why. 'ow did she seem to you?"

"As I said, very pleasant."

"It's a bit of a sad story really," she sighed, pushing her potatoes around her plate.

"What is?"

"Well, Tom's wife died, oh must be fifteen years ago now. Lily were only about thirteen at the time. She were an only child. Her mother, Rose, would have been almost forty by the time she 'ad Lily and the birth weren't easy for 'er. Tom wanted a son, I suppose most men do, but Rose was told she shouldn't 'ave any more. I don't think Tom ever got over not 'aving a boy of his own. You'd think 'e'd overcompensate, make her work hard, but 'e never lets Lily near any farm work, not that she wouldn't be capable of it."

Siegfried thought back to what Lily had said about a woman's place being in the home. "She…uh…she's never married herself then?"

Mrs Hall shook her head. "No, and I've never so much 'eard of 'er 'aving a lad. It's a shame. She's a lovely looking girl too."

"Yes," he mused to himself. "Yes, she is."

"There's a letter for you that looks like it's from your brother," she changed the subject. "I left it on the side for you."

"Oh, thank you," he said, his mind straying to Tristan, still ensconced in boarding school and hating every minute of it. "No doubt he'll be keen to visit over the holidays."

"Well that would be nice," Mrs Hall brightened. "I'm looking forward to meeting 'im."

"Hmm…" Siegfried replied dubiously. "Let's revisit this once you _have_ met him."

**XXXX**

It was late by the time Lily had finished her chores in the kitchen. She had cleaned away the debris from supper, swept and mopped the floor, wiped the table, made preparations for the following day's meals and could barely keep her eyes open. In the sitting room, she could hear the sound of the wireless and smell the smoke from her father's pipe and though nothing would have give her greater pleasure than to retire to her bedroom and be alone with her own thoughts, she knew that he welcomed her company of an evening, so she wandered through to where he was sitting, head back, listening to the strains of music.

"Can I get you anything else?" she asked.

His eyes opened and he met her gaze. "Get us a drink, there's a good lass."

Turning, she made her way over to the cupboard where he kept his whisky, lifted out the bottle and took a glass from the side. Pouring in a generous measure, she turned back and handed it to him. "I think I'll turn in then."

"Sit down."

"I'm very tired, Dad and…"

"Sit down!" She moved over to the couch and did as he asked, keen that he keep his temper at bay. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the only sound coming from the wireless, the music floating around the room. His expression took on a faraway look. "Your mother loved listening to this kind of thing."

Lily nodded but didn't trust herself to speak.

"You're a good lass, Lily. I don't know where I'd be without you."

"I know," she said, as he closed his eyes again, feeling the crushing weight of expectation in her chest. "I know."


	3. Chapter 3

**14 March 1931**

Sunday came in much as Saturday had gone out; cold, wet and blustery.

"The North wind doth blow and we shall 'ave snow,' Mrs Hall opined over breakfast that morning before church. "You've only got to look up to the 'ills to know it's coming."

"Quite," Siegfried agreed, looking out of the kitchen window. Having survived the first few months of winter in Darrowby, he had been relieved when the weather had changed for the better and wasn't all that enamoured at the prospect at it turning for the worst again. If the snow did come, it only succeeded in making his rounds more difficult with so many remote farms to reach. The chiming of the clock drove the thoughts from his mind, however, as they both realised they were going to be late for the morning service if they didn't hurry.

The church was busy, as usual, the great and the good from the village turning out in their finery to offer thanks to the Lord for another week survived. He found that it could often provide very useful business opportunities as people would regularly approach him for advice which subsequently translated into work and therefore into money. If it wasn't the church, it was the Drovers Pub, though Siegfried knew which one he preferred. He tried to listen as best he could as Reverend Thwaite droned on in his relentless monotone, but instead he found his mind and his gaze wandering.

Religion, to many, was supposed to bring comfort. In the years since he had lost Evelyn he had tried to remind himself of that fact, but even all these years later he still found himself questioning the validity of that belief. God certainly hadn't brought her back to him, no matter how hard he had begged him to in those initial terrible days, stranded in Europe trying desperately to get home. It had been a long time now, fourteen years, and yet sometimes it still felt as though it were yesterday.

He gave himself a mental shake and tried to refocus. As he did so, a flash of red in the corner caught his eye and, glancing across the aisle, saw Lily Bailey sat in a pew a few rows down next to her father. She was wearing a red coat, a small black hat atop her auburn ringlets and from the way she was shifting in her seat, he could tell she was as distracted as he was. As the minister announced the final hymn and the congregation stood to sing, he saw her hymn book slide out of her hand and land on the floor in the aisle with a thump. As she turned to retrieve it, she briefly caught his eye and he smiled at her, eliciting a small smile in return before she turned to face the front again.

When the service was over and people spilled back outside into the biting wind, Siegfried found himself drawn into conversation with Edna Briggs regarding the state of her cat's health. Apparently, Jonjo had been off his food now for quite some time and though he tried to offer some comfort and advice, explaining to her that nothing he said could really be considered an accurate diagnosis without actually seeing the cat himself, appeared to render her quite hostile.

"What do you think I am, made of money?" she scoffed.

"Well I…" before he could finish his sentence, she had turned and stormed away from him and as he turned back to try to locate Mrs Hall amongst the crowd, he found himself face to face with someone else entirely. "Oh," he said, "Miss Bailey."

"Good morning Mr Farnon," she greeted him in return. "Cold day, isn't it?"

"Just a touch," he replied, pulling his coat around himself. "How are you?"

"I'm well, thank you for asking."

"I would have retrieved your hymn book for you earlier, but you appeared to have the situation well under control."

"Best not to wait for a man to assist with something I can do meself," she replied with a short laugh.

"No, indeed…how are the horses? I was intending on coming to the farm tomorrow on my rounds to see if the treatment had made any difference."

"Oh…" she paused, "well of course you're most welcome, but you'd 'ave to ask me dad about the 'orses. I'm not too sure how they're faring to be honest."

"Yes, yes of course…" he paused again, finding himself quite taken by the lightness of her eyes. "My…uh…my housekeeper, Mrs Hall, was asking after you the other day. She said that she hadn't seen you for some time and was hoping that you were in good health."

Lily's face paled and took on a look that he would have described as mildly stricken, her eyes glancing around as though she expected Mrs Hall to suddenly pounce upon her. "Oh…well, that was very kind of her. I…uh…"

"Lily?" Tom Bailey's voice boomed out from across the street and, turning, Siegfried saw him watching them intensely.

"I should go," she said hurriedly.

"Well I'm sure Mrs Hall would…"

"Good day Mr Farnon." Before he could finish his sentence, she had turned and hurried across to meet her father, who shot him a look, the meaning of which he coudn't quite place, before ushering her away down the street.

"Were that Lily Bailey?" Mrs Hall's voice at his ear caused him to jump.

"Yes. I said you were asking after her."

"It's a strange one," she mused. "A very strange one."

"Yes," he agreed, watching as Lily's red coat disappeared around the corner. "Yes indeed."

**15 March**

By the following morning, Mrs Hall's predictions regarding the state of the weather were beginning to come to pass. Overnight, there had been a very light fall of snow, dusting the roads and fields like sugar and the morning sky was a hard, grey colour, the wind icy with the promise of more to come. Fortunately, for Siegfried, his list of calls for that day wasn't particularly lengthy, and he had afternoon surgery in the warmth of Skeldale House to make up for it. He elected to leave his visit to the Bailey farm until last and as the car made its way to the top of the hill, he caught sight of Tom working the tractor in the field beyond.

When he pulled to a halt in the yard, he caught sight of Lily at the window and raised his hand in greeting. She smiled in return and then disappeared from view and so he elected to check on the horses before attempting any further conversation with her. He was pleased to see that the ones affected by sweet itch had definitely improved, the infections almost entirely gone. A few more doses of the ointment would most likely complete the job and he couldn't help but feel the welcome sense of satisfaction at having solved a problem.

Lily was standing at the door when he arrived back in the yard, a coat draped around her shoulders. "You'd best come inside," she said. "Looks like it's going to start coming down in a minute." He followed her into the kitchen and unbuttoned his coat. "Let me put that over 'ere by the stove," she said, taking it from him. "You'll 'ave a cup of tea?"

"Yes, that's very kind, thank you."

"I'm afraid I've no scones today, but I've got a bit of soup on the go for lunch if you'd like some."

"Oh, no thank you. I'm sure a feast awaits me back at the surgery and I would hate to disappoint Mrs Hall."

"She's a good sort is Audrey," Lily said, lifting the tea pot over to the table. "She's always been very kind to me. Well, she's very kind to everyone. I suppose it's in 'er nature."

"She was sorry that she didn't get to speak to you at church yesterday," he said, pouring himself some tea.

"Yes, it were a shame," she said, busying herself over by the stove, "Dad wanted to get back up 'ere though. Always likes a roast on a Sunday, always at the same time. Stickler for routine is me dad." She turned back and sat down at the opposite side of the table. "This weather can't be much good for going out and about on your rounds."

"No, not really. You must be fairly cut off up here when it gets particularly bad."

"It 'as been known. Sometimes weeks can go by 'ere with just the two of us." She looked down at the table and ran her finger along one of the welts carved into the wood. "I suppose that leads to two people getting on each other's nerves as it were."

"Mrs Hall told me about your mother," Siegfried said. "I'm very sorry."

She looked up and met his gaze, almost looking surprised that he had brought it up. "It were a long time ago now."

"You were…thirteen?"

"Twelve. It 'it me dad 'ardest. Worshipped me mother he did," she smiled. "Folk used to say they were the 'appiest couple in Darrowby. Maybe too 'appy."

"Surely you can never be _too_ happy."

"No?" She looked at him intently. "Are you 'appy, Mr Farnon?"

"Well…" the question caught him off-guard. _Was_ he happy? He had a thriving practice in a nice place with nice people, enough money coming in to be comfortable and a younger brother who, though often the bane of his life, he loved dearly. To the outside world, he had every reason to be happy. And yet…there was no Evelyn. She was gone forever, never to return to him. He had been happy with her, blissfully happy, so unaware of what would come. Could he truly say that, without her, he was happy? "I consider myself very content," he settled on.

"Content…" she considered the word and nodded. "I suppose it's as good a word as any."

"What about you?" he asked.

"What about me?"

"Well, are _you_ happy or content?" She didn't say anything for a long moment and her expression once again became slightly stricken in the way it had the previous day at church. Instantly, he felt he might have overstepped some invisible boundary. "My apologies," he said hurriedly. "It is none of my business as to whether you are indeed happy or not."

"No…I…I asked you the question, so I suppose it's only fair you ask it in return." She rose from her chair and moved once more over to the stove, stirring the pot that sat on top and he found himself inexplicably holding his breath waiting for her answer. "Yes," she turned back to face him, a smile fixed to her face that he would have questioned as less than completely genuine. "I'm very 'appy, Mr Farnon, thank you."

"Well," he said, taking another long drink of tea. "That's very…very good to hear."

**XXXX**

The snow came silently that night. The wind had stilled and the temperature dropped so low that the raindrops had turned to icicles on the widows. The sky had taken on an even darker quality before sunset and then the first flakes had fallen, lightly at first like the day before then heavier until the fields were softly carpeted in white.

Lily sat at her bedroom window watching, unable for some inexplicable reason to sleep. She had been tempted to dress and go outside, to stand in the yard or in the top field while the snow came down. It would have been cold, but she would have felt it, felt something. Instead, she had wrapped her dressing gown tighter around her body and stayed inside, convincing herself that it was warmer, safer. She couldn't help her mind going back to the conversation she had had with the local vet that morning in the kitchen. He was a nice man, Mr Farnon. Somewhat older than herself, more worldly wise than she could probably ever hope to be, but at no point had she felt as though she were speaking to someone who considered her inferior. Not like when she spoke to her father.

The direction of the conversation had surprised her, not least of all when he had asked her if she was happy. It was a question no-one had ever bothered to ask her before, at least not that she could remember. Perhaps it had been asked at some point in the olden days before her mother had died, but certainly never since. It would never cross her father's mind for her not to be happy, nor that he should consider enquiring about it.

Though she barely knew him and would most likely have little reason to speak with him again, she couldn't help feeling slightly guilty for having lied to Siegfried Farnon, but it had seemed the safest answer to give to such a dangerous question. Had she told him the truth, that she was so desperately _un_ happy, what would she have considered he should say or do in return?

As she pondered this, there came a sudden crash from downstairs and, getting to her feet, she hurried to the bedroom door, pulled it open and hastened down the stairs into the kitchen. She paused at the doorway, the familiar sense of anger and despair coursing through her at the sight of her father, face down at the table, a glass smashed at his feet. There was a pungent smell of whiskey in the air and as she moved towards him to sweep up the mess, it grew overpoweringly stronger.

He slept through her removing the debris and depositing it in the dustbin. When she looked at him, his face pressed against the tabletop, ruddy from the wind and the alcohol, soft pig like noises emanating from him, she felt an overwhelming urge to scream. This couldn't have been what her mother had meant on her deathbed when she had asked Lily to take care of her father. She couldn't possibly have meant this unending purgatory where, at the ripening age of almost twenty-seven, she was the spinster of the parish, destined to live out her days in a remote hilltop farm, keeping house for a man she barely liked or respected anymore and who had no insight or care into his own daughter's feelings. That couldn't have been what her mother had wanted for her, surely? To never know a love of her own? To never bear her own children?

Tom shifted in the chair and let out a long ripple of noise from his backside before resuming his drunken stupor. She knew that she should coax him up and into his bed, offer him water or even some coffee so that he wouldn't wake in the morning and be unable to attend to the farm, the farm that he wouldn't let her near for apparent fear of something happening to her, of being left completely on his own. And yet, she couldn't bring herself to help him, couldn't seem to muster the strength to overlook the life he forced her to lead.

Instead, she doused the lamp and climbed the stairs back to her bedroom.

**28 March**

"No, and I think it's bloody presumptuous of you to ask!"

"Oh, come on Siegfried, I'm only asking to bring a friend not for you to rent out your entire house for a soiree."

"Tristan…" Siegfried rubbed his hand over his eyes and tried to quell the visualisation of strangling his younger brother. "I haven't seen you since I came here."

"And no doubt five minutes in my company and you'll be wishing me gone again."

"That is _not_ true…"

"I always seem to irritate you. Surely my bringing a friend with me should help alleviate some of that, for both of us."

Siegfried sighed heavily. He had been looking forward to Tristan coming to visit, especially as he had yet to see Darrowby, the surrounding area and, indeed, the surgery. He had hoped that they might be able to spend some quality time together, where he could have encouraged his brother in fulfilling his potential and going on to university, as he had claimed he wanted to do. "It's a terrible imposition on Mrs Hall."

"What is?" the lady in question asked as she passed by holding the afternoon tea tray.

"Oh, Tristan wants to bring a friend down for the holidays," he replied, putting his hand over the mouthpiece.

"Well let 'im. More the merrier as far as I'm concerned."

"Thank you, Mrs Hall," he sighed.

"I heard that," Tristan said. "She said it was all right."

"Yes, yes she did."

"Well…?"

"Oh, all right, bring your friend. But if you think for one minute that the two of you are going to be spending the entire week loitering around the local public house, you can think again. I'll see you in two weeks." He put the phone down before Tristan could say anything further and wandered through to the sitting room where Mrs Hall was pouring the tea. "That boy will be the death of all of us, least of all me."

"'e's young," she commented. "Can't be more than eighteen, can he?"

"Eighteen past," Siegfried sighed, sinking down into the armchair. "He'll be going to university after the summer, if he ever gets a move on and does some work, that is."

"You said 'e wanted to be a vet too."

"Yes, Lord knows why."

"I suppose 'e wants to emulate 'is big brother. Most boys do."

"Most of the time I feel more like his father than his brother," he said, accepting a cup from her. "I suppose the age difference doesn't really help. Twenty-one years is quite a gap."

"You must 'ave got quite a shock when you 'eard 'e was on the way."

"A shock? I'm surprised I didn't drop dead of a heart attack." He shook his head, thinking back to that day in 1913 when, just as he and Evelyn were considering whether, as newly weds, it was prudent to consider starting a family as the country stood on the brink of war, his mother had written to tell them that she was unexpectedly pregnant at the so-called wise old age of forty-two. "But I suppose, for all his many faults and mine…"

"Family's family," Mrs Hall said, sitting back in the chair and surveying him wisely.

"Indeed," he echoed. "Family's family."


	4. Chapter 4

**7 April 1931**

"Well now little Lily, let's be having you."

Lily looked up and inwardly groaned at the sight of Dr Bellamy's smiling face. It wasn't that she didn't think him a kind man, but he seemed to take eternal pleasure in speaking to her as though she were still a child rather than a grown woman. In her younger years it had seemed endearing, but as she rapidly aged, it became less endearing and more irritating, especially as she couldn't help but think that if she were a wife and mother, he wouldn't address her so.

Following him into his examining room, she took a seat in the uncomfortable chair next to his desk and wished, not for the first time, that more women were doctors. She knew it wasn't a popular opinion but, somehow, seeking assistance from a man for something that only afflicted a woman seemed faintly ridiculous.

"Now, what's the trouble?" Dr Bellamy asked, sitting down at his desk and leaning forwards expectantly.

"Well it's…" she paused and took a breath, resigning herself to just getting it all out into the open and trying to spare herself any embarrassment. "It's my cycle. It's been…erratic of late."

"I see," he nodded sympathetically. "How erratic, would you say?"

"Very. I can't really predict it. 'aven't been able to for the last few months now."

"Uh huh…when it does come, it is light or heavy?"

"It varies."

"Any pain?"

"Some." She waited whilst he flicked through the papers that she could only presume made up her medical records. "Sometimes a strong brew 'elps but other times…"

"Why don't you get yourself up onto the bed and let's take a look at you," he said, smiling warmly at her. Somewhat reluctantly, Lily rose to her feet and crossed the small room over to the bed in the corner. Slipping off her shoes, she climbed onto it and lay back. Moments later, he towered over her, regarding her carefully. "Now, if you wouldn't mind, just lifting your blouse and lowering the waist of your skirt for me slightly…that's good, thank you."

He started pressing gently down on her abdomen, moving across from side to side and up and down, alternatively pressing and tapping and listening for something she couldn't even begin to imagine. As he examined her, she couldn't help but wonder what he thought of her. Did he think it strange that she had never married, had never borne a child? Did he find her odd or lacking in some way? Or had such thoughts never crossed his mind? Perhaps she was too guilty of thinking that everyone in Darrowby had an opinion of her.

"Well I can't hear that there's anything wrong," he said finally, stepping back. "You can get dressed now. Is there anything causing you particular concern at the moment? Something that may have started around the time you noticed the change in your cycle?"

She sat back down in the chair, "No, not really…"

"Are you sure? Often these things can be linked to a woman's emotional state."

"I'm not…I'm not emotional," she said. It seemed like the truth. If anything, she felt dead inside.

"And things are all right up at the farm?"

"Yes."

"How's your father?"

"Oh…'e's fine. Same as always. Keeping busy."

"Mmmmm…." He regarded her carefully. "Well, I can't see that there's anything particularly wrong or anything that I could give you. Perhaps if you were able to identify any situations that might give rise to anxiety or stress and try to avoid those, that might help. Come back and see me in a few months if things haven't improved."

"Thank you," she said, getting to her feet, albeit unconvinced he had done anything to help her.

"Lovely to see you again little Lily," he joked with a wink and she forced a smile onto her face before turning and leaving the room, making sure to make payment prior to leaving the surgery.

Stepping out into the fresh morning air, she took in a large lungful and let it out slowly, closing her eyes as she did so. She couldn't help but wonder if the entire visit had been a mistake. What exactly had she expected him to do for her anyway? She knew there was no magic cure for her situation, well, no cure in Darrowby anyway. In truth, the visit had been more of an excuse than anything else. A chance to get away from the farm and be amongst other people. Even walking the village streets speaking to no-one had to be better than being alone in a silent farmhouse.

The weather had slightly improved in the last few weeks, the threat of snow gone with the rise in temperature and yet the wind could still chill depending on what direction you faced and yet she found the whip of it against her skin more invigorating than anything else.

As she crossed the road and made to pass Skeldale House on her way to the bus stop, she found herself thinking again about Siegfried Farnon. She hadn't seen him since the last morning he had come to check on the horses, there being no immediate animal problems at Windy Hill. Though she had attended church religiously every Sunday, her father was always keen to spirit her back to the farm immediately afterwards, rather than allow her any sort of conversation with anyone. On occasion, she had found herself pondering what it must be like to be a vet, to be able to spend so much time with animals. It was certainly a profession that would require a great deal of intelligence, more than she could ever hope to have.

As she passed the front door of the house, it suddenly flew open and the man in question appeared, dressed in a white coat and looking somewhat harassed. Instinctively, she found herself stopping and staring up at him as he stood regarding her from the top of the steps.

"Mr Farnon?"

"Miss Bailey," he greeted her in response. "How are you? I trust you're well?"

"Yes, well I…"

"I wonder…would you mind…?"

She paused at the sudden change in direction of the conversation. "Would I mind what?"

"Well…I…" he gestured behind him towards the open door. "I can't seem to locate Mrs Hall you see, and I could use…well…some assistance."

"Assistance?"

"Yes, yes, will you come?"

"I…" before she could proffer a proper answer, he turned and hurried back through the open door and she felt she had little option but to follow. It had been years since she had been inside Skeldale House, the last time occasioned by a need to take the farm cat to be looked at by Mr Grant and that had been a good ten years earlier. As she closed the door behind her, she couldn't help thinking fondly of the cat, Powder, and suddenly felt an acute sense of loss sweep over here. For a moment, she stood alone in the hallway until he suddenly appeared from the room to her right which she recalled being an examination room.

"Ah, thank you. I appreciate this."

"Appreciate what?" she asked as he moved past her, bending down and looking under the sideboard and round the side of the door. "What is it I can help you with?"

"Well…" he turned back to face her again. "I appear to have mislaid a rabbit."

"A rabbit."

"Yes, a black rabbit named Winston. He belongs to a lovely little girl from the village and he came in yesterday with a sore leg and now appears to have hopped off somewhere on it. I'm hoping he must be somewhere in this house because if he's managed to get outside, Lord knows we'll never find him."

She glanced around, "And Audrey's not 'ere to 'elp you look?"

"No, she appears to have disappeared off somewhere and…" he paused. "I'm sorry, do you think it improper?"

"Improper?"

"Well, being alone in the house with me, with no chaperone. I confess such things don't bother _me_ but I'm not ignorant enough to consider they might not bother others. Your father, for example."

At his somewhat old-fashioned notion of propriety, Lily had found herself starting to smile, but the mention of her father caused it to fade from her face again. She could only imagine his views on the subject and he had been none too enamoured at her insistence on going to see the doctor in the first place. Part of her knew that she should decline to help and get back to Windy Hill as fast as she could, but another part of her welcomed the slight deviation in an otherwise dreary routine. "What me father don't know won't 'urt 'im," she replied, taking off her hat and gloves and laying them on the side. "Where would you like me to start looking?"

"Thank you," he said, relief spreading across his face. "Would you mind looking upstairs? I'm not entirely convinced how far he may have been able to hop but one never knows."

Before she could reply, he had bounded off in the opposite direction and she found herself standing alone at the bottom of the stairs, the only sound coming from the ticking clock in the corner. Though she had found his view of propriety amusing, it seemed somewhat of a different matter altogether to venture upstairs in a man's home. But given how the day appeared to be turning out, she elected to throw caution to the wind and slowly climbed the stairs.

The doors to the rooms above were open, as were the windows, clearly designed to circulate air and as she walked slowly along the upper hallway, she peered inside each one in turn, wondering to herself which room belonged to which occupant. Audrey's room at the top of the stairs was the easiest to identify. It had a vague femininity about it and so she didn't feel too intrusive going inside and looking under the bed, behind the table and the door and around the side of the wardrobe. The second bedroom was clearly a spare, no sign of life within either human or animal. The third room, she could only surmise was Siegfried's. A clean suit hung over the wardrobe door with a pair of shined shoes beneath. On the table by the bed were a collection of books, the titles of which she didn't recognise. She paused at the door, feeling all too suddenly as though it really _would_ be improper to enter. The only man's bedroom she had ever been in was her father's and, somehow, that didn't really count.

"Any luck?!" Siegfried's voice suddenly came from the bottom of the stairs, causing her to jump.

"No, not yet." Hurriedly, she looked around the room before leaving it again and making her way back down to the ground floor.

"Blast!" he cursed from where he was pacing. "Where the devil is the damn thing?!"

"'ave you checked everywhere?"

"I've checked the surgery, the sitting room, the kitchen, the scullery…" he stopped suddenly. "Oh no."

"Oh no what?"

"The cats."

"Cats?" he turned and hurried away from her and curiosity forced her to follow him through the hallway, kitchen and scullery out to the back of the house and round the side to the shed. She watched as he pulled open the door and slid inside and she found herself following him. Inside, were a variety of animals in cages, either awaiting treatment or recovering from it. "Well they're all in cages," she observed.

"Yes, yes I realise that, but you never know…can you check over there please?" he replied, waving at her and gesturing to the far corner of the shed. She turned to follow his direction when something suddenly leapt across her foot and she let out a small cry. "What is it?"

"It looks like…" she bent down and lifted a small, black rabbit up into her arms. "Winston, I presume?"

"Oh, thank God…" Siegfried breathed. "Where have you been hiding then? And how did you even get out here?" He took the animal from her and gently stroked its back. "No harm done, it would appear, but we'd best check him over to make sure."

"We?" He had disappeared back out of the shed before she could elicit any further response from him and with no other option but to follow, she found herself back in the house and in the examination room where Winston was now on the table and Siegfried was checking him over carefully. "What's wrong with 'is leg?"

"Well his owner said that he had jumped off of a table and landed strangely," he explained. "Clearly he's a rabbit that likes adventure. This leg feels a little…" he paused and looked up at her. "Come and see what you think?"

"Me?" she laughed. "I'm not a vet."

"Come and see anyway," he encouraged her. "You _did_ find him after all." Though she couldn't help but think that her part in the affair had been far from significant, Lily found herself moving over to the table and standing in front of him. "Have a feel of his leg, that one there," he gestured. "Can you feel it?"

She gently ran her hand down Winston's front leg and noticed a sharp, bony sensation almost halfway down. "Yes, it feels as though something's not right anyway. Like it might be broken?"

"Yes, exactly."

"'ow do you treat it?"

"Well a cast should hopefully suffice, a small one, naturally given he's not a large animal. A splint would be too much, I think. Can you pass me the tape over there please?"

As though she were in some sort of dream, Lily found herself assisting him in ministering to Winston, handing him things when he asked for them and holding the creature when needed. The whole process only took what seemed like a few minutes and, once done, Winston burrowed himself close to her chest.

"I think he likes you," Siegfried said.

"What's going on 'ere then?" Turning, Lily say Audrey standing in the doorway, regarding them curiously.

"Ah, Mrs Hall, there you are!" he exclaimed before Lily could say anything. "Well I don't know where the devil you've been…"

"I were at the post office."

"Well, I managed to somehow lose Winston and it was only through Miss Bailey's help that we retrieved him. I dread to think what might have happened had she not been passing when she was."

"I'm sure you would 'ave found 'im yourself," Lily said, handing him back to Siegfried and watching as he placed him carefully in a cage on the shelf.

"No, I rather fear I would have overlooked him in my agitation," he insisted. "I'm very grateful, thank you."

"You'll 'ave a brew?" Audrey said, taking off her coat.

"Oh…no, thank you. I really should be getting back. Me dad'll be wondering where I've got to. I said I'd only be an 'our."

"One cup won't 'urt, will it?"

"No, really, I should go. I've already missed one bus and I don't want to miss another."

"We can't have you taking the bus," Siegfried said. "I'll drive you back."

"Oh…" she paused at his offer, "oh, you don't 'ave to do that."

"Well it's the least I can do if you won't accept a cup of tea," he insisted, shrugging off his white coat. "And if you're concerned as to your timekeeping it would be much swifter than waiting for the next bus."

There was sense in his logic and Lily found herself nodding in agreement. "As long as it's not too much trouble."

"It's no trouble at all. Mrs Hall, I shall be back in due course."

"Make sure you come to our meeting next week, Lily," Audrey said, catching her arm gently as she made to pass. "We've missed seeing you these last months."

"I will," she lied, "thank you."

**XXXX**

The drive home from the village was very pleasant. Siegfried talked about the animals that he currently had in the surgery and spoke of some of the calls he had made recently and Lily found herself laughing along with him at some of the more lurid tales. She couldn't help but feel somewhat at ease in his company, though she wasn't sure why, and felt almost genuinely disappointed when Windy Hill came into view.

"You'll have to come back to the surgery some day and help me out," he said cheerfully as the car made its way up the hill.

"I'm not exactly qualified."

"Nonsense, you live on a farm. You must have _some_ affinity with animals. Winston certainly took a liking to you in any event."

"I suppose so," she said, looking out at the cows in the field and feeling somewhat embarrassed that she knew nothing about them or how to care for them, or indeed any animal. "I 'ad a cat when I were younger. Powder. Doted on 'er, but after she died, me dad said there were no point in replacing 'er."

"Couldn't you get another one now, if you wanted to?"

"I don't think 'e'd be too 'appy about that."

"It wouldn't be solely his decision, would it?"

She could tell what he was driving at and she felt herself shift uncomfortably in the seat. _You're a grown woman,_ he was saying, _why can't you make your own decisions?_ Fortunately, they pulled into the yard at that point and she was prevented from having to say anything more on the subject. "Thank you for the lift, it were very kind of you to offer."

"Well, as I said, it was the least that I could do. Thank _you_ for assisting me."

"I'm not sure 'ow much 'elp I really was."

"A tremendous help, I can assure you. The fact that Winston is safe and well, and I don't have to explain to some poor child that I've lost him, is of immense relief."

"I suppose it wouldn't look too good if the local vet lost one of his patients."

"No, it wouldn't. Not whilst I'm still trying to establish myself in Darrowby."

"You seem to be doing all right so far, from what I 'ear anyway."

He pinked slightly and looked away, "Well, that's very kind of you to say, thank you."

She opened her mouth to say something more, but her father suddenly appeared from one of the sheds and, upon seeing them in the car together, drew his brows together in a frown of disapproval. "I should go, thank you again." Before he could say anything, she opened the door and stepped out.

"Oh aye," Tom said, advancing towards them. "What's all this then?"

"Ah, Mr Bailey," Siegfried said, "I was just returning your daughter safely to you. She helped me out with a tricky situation earlier and I couldn't have her standing waiting for a bus."

"What situation might this be?" Tom asked, his gaze boring into her own. "Thought you were going to the doctor?"

"I did," she replied, "I…"

"The doctor?" Siegfried broke in and his expression grew suddenly concerned. "I'm sorry, I had no idea. If I'd known you were unwell, I wouldn't have asked…"

"I'm not unwell," she replied hurriedly. "Mr Farnon just asked me to help him look for a lost rabbit, Dad, that's all."

"Is it now?" Tom glared at them both in turn. "Well, lunch won't make itself now, will it?"

"No, no it won't. Good day Mr Farnon," she turned back to him, smiling as brightly as she could. "And thank you again."

"No, thank you," he echoed, as she hurried away inside. Removing her coat, hat and gloves she lifted her apron from behind the door and tied it around her waist before moving over to the stove. As she did so, she glanced out of the window to see her father and Siegfried involved in some sort of conversation. Moments later, Tom moved away, and she caught Siegfried's eye. He raised his hand in a gesture of farewell and she smiled tightly before turning away.

For the new few moments, she busied herself preparing the midday meal, only to suddenly hear footsteps behind her and, turning, saw her father framed in the doorway. "Shouldn't take long," she said cheerfully. "Why don't you wash up?"

"You're a good lass, our Lily," he said, moving over to the sink. "Don't go forgetting that now."

"No," she sighed, "no, I won't."


	5. Chapter 5

**16 April 1931**

"I feel like the headmaster of some sort of awful boys' reformatory school," Siegfried groaned over breakfast. "I mean, don't they teach them to get up at a decent hour at that place?"

"They're on 'oliday," Mrs Hall reminded him, smiling over her teacup. "You can't expect them to be up and at it first thing in the morning."

"Oh, can't I? I don't see why not when they're staying in my house." He put his cutlery down and sighed. "That was delicious, as always, Mrs Hall. It's a shame some people don't appreciate it." Tristan and his friend George had been at Skeldale House for four days and though Siegfried couldn't really fault his brother's friend in terms of manners and comportment, when the two of them were together it was like trying to corral a couple of hyperactive monkeys. Not that it wasn't good to see his brother, but every time he found himself despairing of him, he would hear his father's voice in his head.

_"Promise me you'll take care of Tristan, Siegfried. You're all he has left now."_

The thought always made him melancholic. That neither of his parents were here to see their youngest son or, indeed, deal with him. A banging noise from upstairs brought him back to reality and, moments later, Tristan and George appeared, throwing themselves into their chairs at the table with aplomb.

"Good morning Siegfried!" Tristan greeted him cheerfully. "Good morning Mrs Hall!"

"Good morning Tristan, George," she replied good-naturedly. "You'll both be wanting some breakfast I shouldn't wonder."

"Yes, we're both starving, aren't we George?"

"Yes, starving."

Siegfried rolled his eyes as Mrs Hall dished up breakfast for them and then watched as they both dug in quite without compunction. "You would think neither of you had eaten for a week!"

"It's the country air," Tristan replied, his mouth full of sausage. "It gives you an appetite, doesn't it George?"

"Yes, an appetite."

"Yes, well…" Siegfried lifted the newspaper that was sat on the table. "What exactly are your plans for today then?"

"Not much. Go for a walk around the village."

"Isn't that what you've done every day since you arrived? You must have combed every inch of the place by now."

"If this is to be my new home, surely I should become well acquainted with it?" Tristan said. "And if George intends to visit me regularly…"

"Does he indeed? Well, neither of you will be going anywhere if you don't pass your exams and get into Edinburgh. Don't you think a little studying might be a good way to spend some of your time?"

"There's plenty of time for that. I saw a sign up yesterday for the village gala," Tristan observed. "Apparently, it's tomorrow."

"Oh yes, it's always a good day is gala day," Mrs Hall said. "Always well supported by the locals, especially if the weather 'olds. There's the crowning of the gala king and queen, then a parade through the streets down to the common followed by a big party with food and music and stalls to buy things from. It's a shame it only 'appens once a year is all. It’s a good practice run for Darrowby Show.”

"And are there many pretty ladies in attendance?"

"Tristan, for heaven's sake," Siegfried said, over the top of the newspaper. "Is that all you can think about, female company?"

"And what's wrong with female company? George and I don't get enough of it stuck at school and I dare say university won't be any better. Besides, perhaps _female company,_ is something you should be seeking more of, dear brother."

Siegfried lowered the newspaper and looked over at his giggling brother. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, come now, the local vet? You're probably the most eligible bachelor in Darrowby. I'm sure there must be scores of women lining up at the door."

"Hardly."

"And why not? You're not exactly over the hill yet," Tristan looked wickedly at George. "A little out of practice, perhaps…"

"That's enough."

"What about that barmaid at the Drovers? Or maybe Mrs Hall knows a few ladies who would…"

"I said, that's enough!" He hadn't intended to shout but had been quite unable to stop himself and found Tristan, George and Mrs Hall looking at him as though he had grown an extra head. "I don't wish to discuss this. By all means waste your time lolling around the village, but don't come crying to me when the school kicks you out and you have nowhere to go." Pushing back his chair, he rose from the table. "Now, unlike some, _I_ have work to do."

Leaving the kitchen at a brisk pace, he found himself quite unexpectedly in the animal shed. He wasn't sure why he had sought it as some sort of refuge, but being in amongst the various animals made him feel calmer, more under control. He knew Tristan had only been teasing and, after so long, he would have thought that the notion wouldn't rankle so much and yet…

"I'm sorry," Tristan's voice came out of nowhere, causing him to jump slightly. Turning, he saw his brother leaning over the half open door, his expression contrite. "I didn't mean to poke fun. I was only…"

"I know."

"It's been a long time, brother…"

"That's not a fact you need remind me of."

"I'm sure that she…" he broke off and looked at the floor.

Siegfried looked at him. "You're sure that who what?"

Tristan met his gaze again. "I'm sure that Evelyn would have wanted you to be happy."

_Evelyn…_

"I'm…very content," he said, thinking back on what he had said to Lily Bailey when she had asked him if he was happy. "And that's enough for me."

"If you say so," Tristan replied, in a tone that indicated he wasn't entirely convinced by his brother's answer.

"I do…say so. Now, if you and George are intending on loitering, please do it somewhere else. _Some_ of us have work to do." He waited until his brother had disappeared and then leant back against the side wall, a long breath escaping from his chest, the smart of tears at the corner of his eyes. "You can't bring her back," he told himself quietly yet fiercely. "You have to go on. You _have_ to go on."

It was easier said then done at times, even all these years later and especially when Tristan, who most likely barely even remembered her, felt qualified to opine on his own personal mourning. There were days when he longed to see her, nights when he longed to touch her. He couldn't help but think on what might have been had she lived, had he not been so damned far away thinking he was doing something good when, all of the time…the mewling of a cat brought him back into the present moment and, stepping forward, he opened one of the cages and lifted it out. The warm softness of its fur seemed to soothe him and, as he gently stroked it, he couldn't help but wonder if, underneath it all, his brother wasn't right.

XXXX

The day passed relatively uneventfully for Siegfried. He made a few calls to some local farms before returning for lunch prior to afternoon surgery. There was no sign of Tristan or George, with Mrs Hall advising him that they had requested she make them both a picnic lunch as they intended going for a walk in the hills and most likely wouldn't be home until supper time. He had shaken his head in mild frustration and gone about the business of the day, finally hanging up his coat at just past four o'clock. Though the temperature was still relatively brisk, the sun was still bright and after informing Mrs Hall that he intended taking a walk around the village before the evening meal, set off to clear his head.

The village was alive with people, the finishing touches being made for the following day's gala event. Perched on some rather precarious looking ladders, bunting was being strung by some of the locals, bright flower pots were being placed outside of the shops and as he walked down the hill in the direction of the common, he could see the large marquee that had been erected containing the various stalls and tea room that would, inevitably, be full to bursting. There were empty pens dotted around and he could only assume that animals would fill them early the next morning. It was pleasant, very pleasant and, in a way, he was looking forward to being part of it.

As he rounded a corner, he was suddenly greeted by the sight of Lily Bailey sitting on a low stone wall, a large package at her feet. Surprised to see her, yet somewhat pleased, he hurried forwards. "Good afternoon, Miss Bailey."

"Oh…" she started at his greeting, "Mr Farnon…"

"It's a lovely afternoon for a sojourn around the village isn't it?"

"Yes, I suppose it is."

"All the preparations appear to be coming together nicely for tomorrow. Here's hoping the weather holds." He paused. "Were you heading anywhere in particular?"

"Well I…" she broke off suddenly and her face creased in pain, an action that brought him up short.

"Are you all right?" he asked, bending and putting his hand on her shoulder.

"Yes…yes, I'm…I'm fine," she winced again and bent forwards slightly, her hand going to her abdomen.

"Have you eaten something that hasn't agreed with you?"

"No, no, it's nothing like that."

"Ah," he said, realisation striking. "Menstrual cramps?" She looked at him slightly agog. "My late wife was terribly afflicted. Left her bedridden for days on occasions. Have you tried warm compresses and sweet tea? Well of course you have," he chided himself. "What a ridiculous notion to suggest that you haven't. No, no," he insisted as she made to stand up. "Just sit a while until it subsides." He positioned himself beside her. "As I said, it's a lovely afternoon."

"Yes," she agreed, and, for a time, they simply sat on the wall together in silence, looking down the hill at the lowering sun. "I was on my way to the green to drop off some 'ome baking for tomorrow."

"Oh, splendid! I shall have to make sure to have some given how delicious I found your scones the last time." She blushed slightly. "I take it that's what you have in the package, scones?"

"And some other things. I don't just bake scones."

"I'm sure whatever you have will taste wonderful." He paused. "How are things at the farm?"

"Fine, thank you. The surgery?"

"Oh, can't complain, can't complain."

"'ow's Winston? Was 'e returned safely to 'is owner?"

"Ah, how thoughtful of you to remember. Yes, thank you. It was such a relief to hand him over. I felt a great weight lift from my shoulders. And he appears to be doing well by all accounts. Hopefully his days of running wild and causing injury to himself are over." He paused and looked at her, relieved to see a bloom spreading on her cheeks. "Your colour's returning."

"Yes, I'm feeling a little better now, thank you." She got to her feet and reached for the package.

"Oh, allow me!" he leapt up and bent to retrieve it for her.

"Thank you. I really should get these over to Mrs Norris at the baking tent."

"Allow me to walk with you."

"Oh, you don't 'ave to…"

"I'd like to, please. If only to make sure you arrive there safely."

"I'm not liable to collapse in a 'eap," she said with a smile.

"Well I would be no gentleman at all if I simply left you now, would I?" he gestured to the package now in her arms. "Would you like me to carry that for you?"

"No, I can manage, thank you."

They started to walk down the street towards the common in companionable silence and when they reached the marquee, he waited outside whilst she delivered her wares. As he looked around at the picturesque scene before him, he suddenly caught sight of Tristan and George sitting on a bench surrounded by a group of young girls.

"For heaven's sake…" he muttered.

"What is it?"

He jumped and turned to see Lily standing behind him, her arms now free of her delivery. "Oh, it's my brother and his friend," he gestured across the common. "They're staying with me for the school holidays and…well…he does love to try my patience."

"That's your brother?" she said, shielding her eyes from the sun. "'e looks very young."

"He is. _Very_ young with a head full of complete nonsense." He sighed. "I worry about him but, what can I do? I'm not his father, no matter how hard I try to be."

"Are your parents not around then?" she asked, as they turned back in the direction of the village square.

"No, both dead. Tristan was only four when our mother died, fifteen when Father passed two years ago."

"I'm sorry to 'ear that. It can't be easy being the older brother."

"It isn't, I can assure you. He's becoming a man and sometimes…sometimes I wonder if I'm doing anything right." She didn't say anything, and he suddenly realised that, despite how easy it seemed to be to converse with her, he really didn't know her. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't be offloading my familial problems onto you."

"I suppose it's only fair given 'ow kind you were earlier."

"Ah, yes, forgive me for being so forthright. When I opined on the reason for your discomfort, that is. I'm obviously not a doctor of medicine."

"Obviously."

"Now, were you a sow or a ewe, I might have been able to recommend something more useful in alleviating your discomfort than hot compresses and sweet tea but, as it is…" he trailed off as she started to laugh. "I'm glad I amuse you, if nothing else."

"I'm very grateful for your concern. Believe me when I say that the discomfort is something which I'm very accustomed to."

"I'm sorry to hear it."

"I suppose it's the lot of every woman."

"Well, it shouldn't be. Not for something over which you have no control. One would have thought modern medicine might have improved things for you, but I suppose as it stands…" They slowed as they reached Skeldale House. "Is your father coming to collect you?"

"No, I walked down, and I'll walk back."

"What?" he looked at her in slight astonishment. "All the way to Windy Hill? That's miles!"

"I 'ave done it before. It's not that far when you put your mind to it."

"Well, yes but…surely the bus would be a better alternative? Or I'm happy to drive you…"

"No!" she said sharply. "No, that's very kind but, honestly, I enjoy the walk. It…" she broke off suddenly and her face paled again. Her hand once more went to her stomach and he found himself taking hold of her arm as she swayed slightly.

"You're not well," he said. "Come inside and at least have a cup of tea."

"No, really…"

"I insist, please." Before she could argue any further, he propelled her up the steps and through the front door. "Mrs Hall? Mrs Hall!"

"I'm 'ere, what's the…oh my!" Mrs Hall appeared from the kitchen. "Lily, are you all right, love?"

"No, she isn't," he said. "She needs a comfortable chair and some strong tea."

"Well, what on earth's appened?" Mrs Hall asked, taking hold of her arm.

"I'm fine," Lily replied weakly.

"It's…well…it's _womens' troubles,_ " he found himself enunciating as though it were some kind of secret and, automatically, felt stupid.

"Oh, I see. Well come away into the sitting room, lass, and let me get you some tea. 'ere, give me your coat."

"I don't want to be a burden…"

"You're not, of course you're not. Just you sit yourself down there a moment." Mrs Hall helped her into the armchair. "My, you do look pale."

"She walked all the way down from Windy Hill," Siegfried said.

"Well that won't 'ave 'elped, will it now? I'll get you some tea and then we'll see 'ow you are. Mr Farnon'll sit with you, won't you?"

"Yes, yes of course," he replied taking the couch opposite and watching as Lily sat back in the chair and briefly closed her eyes. "You can, of course, tell me to mind my own business, but have you consulted Dr Bellamy?"

"Yes," she replied.

"And he wasn't able to prescribe something to give you relief?"

"I don't think there's much 'e could prescribe. Like I said, it's the lot of every woman. Me mother was affected the same, or so me father tells me. I don't really remember myself…" she trailed off as Mrs Hall reappeared with a steaming cup of tea. "This is very kind of you, really it is."

"It's no trouble at all. Will I phone your father? Tell 'im what's happened?"

"Eh…no. I mean…don't tell 'im about…I'm not…"

"I could just tell 'im you've stopped in 'ere for a brew and a catch up and that you'll be a bit late getting 'ome, 'ow would that do?"

"That would be fine, thank you," she replied.

"And tell Mr Bailey I'll give Lily a lift home," Siegfried added.

"No! No, don't tell 'im that," Lily interrupted. "I'll honestly be fine to walk."

"You cannot walk when you're not well," he insisted.

"I am _fine,_ " she sat forwards and fixed him with a look that seemed to flit between determination and concern. "Please…"

" _I'll_ give you a lift back," Mrs Hall interrupted. "If I may be allowed to borrow the car, that is?"

Siegfried paused, "Yes, of course you may."

"Good, that settles it then. You drink your tea lass, and we'll see 'ow you are in a while." She left the room and disappeared down the hallway, leaving Siegfried and Lily alone together.

For a time, there was silence in the sitting room, Lily carefully sipping the tea and clearly attempting to avoid eye contact with him. Something about the whole situation bothered him, and he wasn't quite sure that he could put his finger on it, or that he should even attempt to. As she grew more comfortable, Lily sat back again and her gaze returned to his, a small smile venturing across her lips.

"Does your father have a problem with me?" he asked, after another long moment's silence.

"No. Not with you specifically."

"Then…is it something to do with…" anything further he might have wanted to say was drowned out by the sound of the front door crashing open, then crashing closed again and the mingled sound of voices coming down the hallway, indicating that Tristan and George had returned home. He got to his feet, hoping to head both boys off at the pass, but before he could say or do anything, they had tumbled into the living room and stopped to stare at the visitor.

"And who is this beauty?" Tristan enquired, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"Tristan!" Siegfried glared at him. "This is Miss Bailey."

"Does Miss Bailey have a first name?"

"Lily," she replied, before he could rebuke his brother further. "You must be…?"

"Tristan Farnon," Tristan held out his hand and she shook it solemnly. "This is my friend, George Rawlings."

"Pleased to meet you both."

"And you." He glanced at his brother. "Is Miss Bailey staying for supper?"

"No," she said hurriedly. "I've got supper to prepare at 'ome."

"That's a shame." Tristan looked between them. "Well, I suppose George and I should clean ourselves up. Leave you pair to it." With a laugh, he and George tumbled back out of the room and, moments later, thudded up the stairs.

"I apologise for my brother," Siegfried said, sitting back down again. "As I said earlier, a head full of nonsense."

"'e seems quite charming," she replied.

"He certainly likes to think he is." He paused again. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine, Mr Farnon, thank you."

"I'm glad." He held her gaze, once more marvelling at the colour of her eyes and was about to say something more, when Mrs Hall returned.

"Well that's all settled then," she said, "I told your father I'd 'ave you 'ome before it gets too late. Can't 'ave 'im going ‘ungry now, can we?"

"No," Lily smiled tightly. "We can't."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Following some of the information provided in episode 5, I went back and altered Siegfried’s late wife’s name to Evelyn. I also tweaked his age slightly, and I put a chapter note at the start of chapter 1 to explain this. I also changed Lily’s hair colour but that’s not really a big plot line!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has read, left kudos and reviewed. I’m very grateful. Please keep it up!

**17 April 1931**

Lily woke earlier the morning of the gala feeling significantly better than she had done the previous afternoon. Fortified by tea and sympathy from Mrs Hall and Mr Farnon she had been grateful to the former for driving her back to Windy Hill and making pleasant small talk with her father. It had taken the sting out of any comment he might have felt it pertinent to make on her choosing not to return home the moment that her delivery had been made and, as a result, he had remained uncharacteristically quiet on the subject. In truth, she had enjoyed the time spent at Skeldale House though she wasn't entirely sure whose company she had preferred.

Thankfully the sun was shining, and her father was in a good mood as he gulped down the breakfast she had prepared whilst he was feeding the beasts. Years of living with him had taught her that his mood had less to do with the weather, however, and more to do with the prospect of spending the entire day in the Drovers, knowing that she would be there to drive him home come supper time. Though it should have irritated her, she found that in fact she didn't mind and that she was looking forward to spending some time in alternative company.

When they arrived in the village, spirits were high and when Tom loped at speed towards the pub, Lily let out a sigh of relief and slowly started to wander her way around the various stalls that had been set out both in the square and down on the common. She purchased some scented lavender pouches, some eggs and a hat that she thought she might consider wearing to church one morning, before arriving at the tea tent where she had agreed to lend a hand serving for a few hours.

"Good to see you Lily," Mrs Norris said happily when she saw her. "I reckon we'll have quite a crowd in 'ere today."

"I reckon so," she replied, tying an apron around her waist and busying herself with the tasks at hand. The conversation between herself and the other ladies flowed freely, and she found herself laughing and joking as though she had no cares at all. It almost made her long to return to the ladies' group that she had forsaken some months earlier due to her father's pressure. Perhaps it was time for her to ask if she might be able to start attending again.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the lovely Miss Bailey."

Turning from what she was doing, she came face to face with Tristan Farnon and his friend George, both grinning at her from the other side of the table. "Mr Farnon," she replied, smiling in response.

"Oh please, call me Tristan," he insisted. " _Mr Farnon_ makes me sound as old as Siegfried and _he's_ nearly forty."

"Tristan, then."

"And may I call you Lily?"

"Yes, I suppose so," she wiped her hands on her apron. "Will you be stopping for tea?"

"No, I rather think not," Tristan replied with faux melancholy. "George and I are rather fonder of something a bit stronger than tea. Not that you don't have a lovely spread here." He glanced at George and then looked at her again. "My brother says that you make lovely scones."

She felt herself pink slightly at the compliment. "It 'as been known."

"Then I shall make sure to purchase some from the baking stall before they all sell out."

"That's very kind." She paused. "Will your brother be joining you?"

"Alas he's been called up to the Alderson farm this morning," Tristan replied. "Something wrong with one of their calves. He hoped that he might be finished in time to come down later though. Shall I tell him that you're looking for him if I see him?"

"No!" she exclaimed hurriedly. "No, no, not at all. I was only…wondering, is all. I just wanted to thank him again for his kindness yesterday. And Mrs Hall, of course."

"Of course," Tristan grinned at her again. "Well, we must dash. It was lovely to see you again Lily."

"And you Tristan," she replied, watching as he and George turned and headed back out into the sunshine.

"'e's a cheeky sod," Mrs Norris said, coming up behind her. "All that grinning and talking nonsense. And 'is brother so dignified by comparison."

"'e's young," Lily replied. "I suppose we 'ave to make allowances for age, don't we?"

"Hmmm…listen to you. You're 'ardly over the 'ill, my girl."

"Well…" she said to herself as the older woman turned away. "Sometimes I wonder."

The rest of her time serving passed quickly with time even allowing for her to slip out of the tent to watch the newly crowned Gala King and Queen proceed down into the common carried atop a milk float. She was just wiping her hands and preparing to untie her apron to head back out into the sunshine herself, when she turned suddenly and saw Siegfried speaking to someone just inside the entrance way. For a moment she paused as his gaze met hers and as he bid his companion farewell and came towards her, she suddenly couldn't help but hope fervently that he hadn't run into Tristan or, if he had, that the younger man hadn't said anything that could be considered inappropriate.

"Hello," he greeted her. "Working hard?"

"I've just finished, actually," she replied, removing her apron and laying it on the side. "Duty done for the day, as they say."

"Splendid. Then I'm just in time."

"Just in time for what?"

"For me to ask you to take tea with me."

"Tea?" she echoed stupidly.

"Well yes, they do serve tea here I'm led to believe. Unless I've stumbled into the wrong tent somehow."

"No, you're in the right place," she laughed. "And the tea _is_ very good."

"Well then, you have no excuse, do you?"

She paused and looked at him, at the friendly earnestness of his expression, and found herself thinking about what her father would say if she _did_ decide to take tea with him. He wouldn't approve, of that she was certain, and the anxiety must have shown on her face as Siegfried's smile slipped slightly.

"I'm sorry," he said. "If you think it to be an inappropriate suggestion…"

"No, of course not," she replied hurriedly. "It's just…" she paused again, wondering how on earth she could even begin to explain about her life, the restrictions placed upon it and how hard it was to sometimes find the strength to put one foot in front of the other when every day was the same hellish drudgery. Not that any of those things were matters of which he needed to know, of course, or would likely want to know, but as her mind raced to find an excuse to refuse his kind offer, she also found herself thinking about her father, no doubt three sheets to the wind in the Drovers, enjoying himself and a small part of her began to feel ever so slightly rebellious. "I'd love to 'ave tea with you, Mr Farnon, thank you."

Siegfried's smile returned again. "Excellent. Shall we sit over here then?" He waited for her to come around the counter before directing her to a vacant table and pulling out her chair for her. Whilst the action was kind, she couldn't help feel a slight sense of embarrassment and suspicion that everyone in the tent would be talking as a result. As he ambled back over to the counter to order, she took the chance to glance surreptitiously around and was gratified to see that, contrary to what she had been afraid of, no-one was watching her at all. "I must say you look much better today than you did yesterday," he commented upon his return. "I was quite concerned when you left the house last night, though you did seem better than earlier."

"Oh, those episodes are generally short-lived. I feel much better today."

"I'm pleased to hear it. For your sake, at least." He smiled at her again and she felt a slight, unfamiliar flutter in her stomach. She had never taken tea with a man before, as ridiculous as that would most likely seem to many women, and part of her wasn't entirely sure how she was supposed to act.

"Your brother was in 'ere earlier," she remarked conversationally when the tea arrived.

"Oh Lord, I hope he didn't disgrace himself."

"Not at all. 'e said that you 'ad to go up to the Alderson farm this morning. Something about one of their calves?"

"Yes, poor little thing. Some problem with his lungs. I'll be surprised if he survives until next week."

"That's a shame."

"Yes, it is, and you never really get used to the death of an animal no matter how long you practice for."

"Did you always want to be a vet?" she asked, figuring that it was as safe a subject to land upon as any.

"Yes, ever since I was a boy," he smiled. "My father was a vet and I spent all my childhood days with him at his surgery, learning about how to care for the animals, diagnosing what was wrong with them quickly and efficiently. He could be a hard taskmaster, but he was an excellent teacher. He was delighted when I was accepted to veterinary college. His biggest wish was that we go into partnership together. Farnon and Son." He paused and looked away wistfully.

"And did you?" she asked. "Go into partnership?" He met her gaze again and his expression looked so pained that she was immediately sorry that she had asked. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry…"

"No, not at all," he smiled again. "We worked together for a year or so prior to his death but…well…we hadn't seen eye to eye for some years before that due to…personal differences, so it was a difficult time. After he died, I intended to remain and take over his practice but, well, it can be hard for a son to try and fill his father's shoes. I thought that a fresh start all round might be for the best so, when I saw that the practice here was for sale, it seemed like an excellent opportunity, even if I _have_ had rather large shoes to fill."

"And do you like Darrowby?"

"Very much so. I like the sense of community the village seems to evoke. Events like this, for example," he looked around the tent. "It's lovely to feel part of something."

"Gala day is one of the 'ighlights of the year," she agreed. "It's a good opener for Darrowby Show in August."

"Do you know, Mrs Hall said the same thing, but I took her tone to be somewhat ominous."

"Oh, well that's because every year at the show, there 'as to be an attending vet. By all accounts, it's not an easy role."

"I see…no doubt the task shall fall to me at one time or another then. No wonder there was a look of the devil in Mrs Hall's gaze."

"No wonder indeed," she laughed.

"I hope Tristan grows to like it here too," he said, somewhat wistfully. "I didn't really consult him when I bought the practice. I suppose I just assumed that he would fall in line as he has done with everything else in the past. Perhaps that's not entirely fair of me."

"'e seems to be enjoying 'imself and 'e's very friendly so I doubt 'e'll 'ave much difficulty in settling in."

"I do hope he didn't say anything inappropriate to you earlier?" he looked at her curiously.

"As I said, not at all. It's good to see a young lad so full of life."

"Yes, I suppose so…"

The conversation continued amiably and, once they had finished their tea, they left the tent together and began walking slowly across the common, enjoying the afternoon sunshine. When she eventually glanced at her watch, Lily was amazed to see what time had passed. She had never before conversed so easily with a man in any setting and though part of her was reluctant to bring their time together to an end, she knew that if she didn't get her father out of the pub before too much longer then she wouldn't be able to get him out at all.

"I wonder…" Siegfried said suddenly, breaking into her thoughts. "Would you like to come to dinner at the house one evening next week?"

"Oh…" she stuttered, somewhat taken aback. "Well, I…"

"With Mrs Hall and I, of course," he added hurriedly. "Tristan and George will be back at school, thank the Lord, and though I do enjoy her company, and am sure she enjoys mine, it would be nice to have a different face at the table. What do you say?"

"Well…" it was the kindest offer that had been made to her in a long time, perhaps ever, and she would have been lying to herself if the prospect of a meal that she hadn't cooked herself, away from Windy Hill, didn't seem overwhelmingly tempting…but there was her father and what he would say… "It's very kind of you to offer. It's just that…" she paused again, feeling nothing short of pathetic at her own misgivings. "I'd 'ave to check with me father and, well…"

"Surely he wouldn't begrudge you one meal," he said. "It must get very dull for you at home every night."

"Oh, it's not dull no, it's not that. It's just…well, me father likes things just so and well…" she broke off and looked at the ground, feeling the hot prick of tears at the corner of her eyes. Twenty-seven. She was twenty-seven years old and a nice man had invited her for dinner and there she was, stalling like a schoolgirl who didn't want to anger her irascible father and who was clearly incapable of putting together a simple sentence.

"Forgive me," Siegfried said softly, moving a little closer to her. "I shouldn't have asked. I have no wish to upset you."

"It's not you," she lifted her head again, her vision misting slightly. "It's a very kind offer and I would be delighted to come, but if I could just check with 'im first before committing meself then…then that would be for the best, if you don't mind."

"Not at all," he met her gaze. "Shall we say Friday? You can let either myself or Mrs Hall know at some point before then whether you would be able to come?"

"Thank you," she nodded. "I appreciate that."

He held her gaze and she couldn't help but feel her face starting to turn crimson, for what reason she wasn't entirely sure. "Are you heading home now?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, once I've got me father out of the pub," she laughed and blinked hard, pushing away the threatening tears.

"You don't intend walking all the way back to Windy Hill, do you?"

"No, we've got the van. 'e'll probably be in no fit state to walk far anyway."

"I see. Let me accompany you to the pub then, seeing as I'm heading that way myself anyway."

She opened her mouth to protest, then stopped. A little more time in his company would hopefully weigh favourably against the time she would have to subsequently spend in her father's and she found her spirits lifting slightly again as they walked together in companionable silence. Once they had reached the Drovers, however, and the sound of raucous laughter spilled out the door, Lily felt her chest tighten with anxiety.

"I'd best come in with you," Siegfried said. "I would bet money that Tristan and George will be right in amongst the fray." He held the door open for her and, as soon as she stepped inside, she found herself assaulted by the fog of smoke and the smell of whisky and sweat. In one corner of the room, there was a loud sing-song taking place led, as far as she could see, by Tristan and George. "Oh, good Lord…" Siegfried moved away from her and, turning, she caught sight of Tom lounging drunkenly against the wall in the other corner.

"Come on Dad," she said, with as much cheerfulness as she could muster under the circumstances. "Time we were going 'ome."

"Give over," he grumbled, lurching for his glass and bringing it up to his lips. "I've only been 'ere an 'our."

"You've been 'ere over six 'ours."

"Well another couple won't do any 'arm. 'ere, Henry, get us another one, will you?"

Lily turned to where Henry Dinsdale was standing at the bar and shook her head. "Please don't, Mr Dinsdale. You've 'ad enough, Dad."

"Don't tell me when I 'ave or 'aven't 'ad enough, my girl," Tom replied. "You're not me mother."

"No, but it won't be this in t'morning when you 'ave to get up for the beasts now, will it?" She stooped over him. "Come on, I'll get you 'ome and you can 'ave some supper." Putting one hand under his arm she tried to pull him to his feet, his own weight and drunkenness hindering her process. "Come on Dad…"

"I'm staying 'ere for another pint!" he insisted. "Henry'll see me 'ome later."

"'e bloody will not. 'e's as drunk as you are if not more so. Neither of you'll be fit to move if you stay 'ere. Come on!" With as much energy as she could muster, she pulled him up and out of his seat. He swayed dangerously against her and, for a brief moment, she thought he might knock her to the ground, but then he steadied himself, his arm going around her shoulder.

"You're a good lass, our Lily," he muttered, "a good, good lass…"

"Do you need any help?"

Looking up, she saw Siegfried standing with Tristan and George and felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her. "No, it's fine."

"It's not a problem," he continued. "Where are you parked?"

"Just around the corner but, honestly, I can manage. It's not the first time and it'll not be the last," she panted under her father's weight. On the one hand, it would be useful to have some help but, on the other, she didn't want Siegfried to see this part of her life.

"Well these two are heading straight back over to the house before they fall down," he remarked, turning to glare at his brother and George who were giggling in the background. "So I'll walk you back to your van, make sure your father doesn't squash you en route."

Lily didn't have the energy to protest further as it took all she had to manoeuvre her father around the swell of patrons and out into the fresh air. As they emerged into the sunshine, she felt him grip her tighter and it was all she could do to keep him upright.

"He likes his liquor then, your father," Siegfried commented, taking up position on the other side.

"You could say that." She was grateful when he elected not to say anything further and, minutes later, they managed to deposit him somewhat ungainly into the passenger seat of the van. Straightening up and slamming the door, she turned back to face her companion. "Thank you. You didn't 'ave to come with me."

"Well I could hardly let you manhandle him all by yourself. I would imagine he's not exactly light even without a belly full of whisky. Will you be all right at the other end?"

"Yes. I'll leave 'im in the van until 'e sobers up enough to come wandering inside for 'is tea. That's usually the best way." She paused, finding herself somewhat desperate to explain. "'e's not like this all the time, you know. I mean, 'e likes a drink but it's only occasionally, like on Gala day, that 'e gets as bad as this. Usually it's just a few whiskys at night before bed. Been like that ever since me mother died."

"I'm sorry," Siegfried said. "It can't be easy."

"No, I know 'e finds it 'ard missing 'er as 'e does…"

"I meant for you. It can't be easy for you."

Lily met his gaze and, once again, felt the unfamiliar sensation in her stomach. "That's kind of you to say, thank you."

"Well…I hope you have a pleasant evening."

"Yes, and you." As she turned to get into the van, she made a sudden decision and quickly turned back. "Mr Farnon?"

"Yes?"

"Friday night for dinner would be lovely, thank you."

A smile spread across his face. "Splendid. I'll have Mrs Hall make all the arrangements. Thank you for agreeing."

"Thank you for asking," she smiled in return and then climbed into the van. As she slid it into first gear and pulled away, he lifted his hand and she returned the gesture before turning and driving out of the village towards home feeling just that little bit lighter.


	7. Chapter 7

**23 April 1931**

"I'll be amazed if she turns up."

"Well why on earth wouldn't she turn up?" Siegfried demanded as he stood in the kitchen watching Mrs Hall prepare the evening meal. "She said that she would come. Surely you don't think her so lacking in manners as to just _not turn up_?"

"I wasn't saying it as a criticism of 'er," Mrs Hall turned to look at him. "But I know 'ow Tom Bailey can be sometimes and, well, I doubt Lily's 'ad many dinner invitations in 'er time. I can imagine that 'er father might be a bit put out by it."

"But why, for heaven's sake? He can't honestly expect her _never_ to go anywhere, can he? She's hardly a prisoner. She must be entitled to have _some_ friends."

"Friends?" she raised her eyebrows. "I doubt that's 'ow Tom would see it."

"Oh Mrs Hall, do behave yourself!" he blustered. "Miss Bailey is a nice young woman with whom I've had the pleasure of speaking on a number of occasions and whom I wished to invite for dinner with myself _and my housekeeper_. If I had anything nefarious in mind don't you think I would have asked her to go somewhere more…private?"

"I'm not saying that's what _I_ think. I'm only saying what _Tom_ might think."

"Well even if he did think that I'm hardly a ne'er do well."

"No, indeed you are not." She smiled warmly at him. "You're a lovely man. And she's a lovely girl."

Sighing and shaking his head at her frivolity, Siegfried turned and left the kitchen for the sitting room, glancing at the clock as he did so. It was six-thirty and Lily was due to arrive by seven, having agreed the time by telephone the previous afternoon. Since surgery had finished some hours earlier, he had found himself routinely checking the time and feeling somewhat irked that it appeared to be going so slowly. Though he had been relieved to see Tristan and George back onto the train the previous weekend, he found himself missing the noise and joviality they had brought to the house. Playing Scrabble with Mrs Hall of an evening didn't make for as lively an occasion. Not that he was expecting high jinks from Lily Bailey either, but a change of conversation, as he had eluded to when he had invited her, was to be welcomed.

As he sat down in the armchair, he thought back over Mrs Hall's words and her insinuations. He had no idea where she had avowed herself of the notion that his interest in Lily was anything more than platonic friendship and he could only hope that she chose not to allude to such nonsense when the other woman was there. He had suspected, shortly after arriving at Skeldale House, that nothing would please his housekeeper more than to see him settled with a new wife. Well, _that_ wasn't going to happen, no matter what Tristan or anyone else might think. He had no wish to become entangled with anyone else. No wish at all. At all.

"Well dinner should be ready just after seven," Mrs Hall joined him, wiping her hands on her apron. "I wasn't sure whether you wanted to open a bottle of wine or not."

"Wine?"

"Yes, wine. You know, it's a beverage often consumed with a meal."

"Yes, thank you, I know what it is." He paused, thinking on what sort of impression offering wine might give. He didn't even know if Lily would want to drink wine. Perhaps she preferred ale, or indeed water. "Perhaps we should wait and ask Miss Bailey what she would prefer."

"As you like." She began busying herself around the room, moving books from one table to another and straightening the cushions as she did so. He found himself fascinated by her motivation, given that he himself had found the room to look perfectly adequate as it had. Just as he was contemplating asking her why she felt the need to do as she was doing, the doorbell rang, and he leapt to his feet. "Would you like me to answer it?" Mrs Hall asked when he made no move.

"No, no, I can manage." Making his way towards the door, he paused to give himself a glance in the mirror, the reason for why he knew not, and then opened it to reveal Lily standing on the doorstep. "Miss Bailey."

"Mr Farnon," she replied with a smile before glancing behind her. Following her gaze, Siegfried could see Tom Bailey sitting in the driver's seat of the van, watching them with furrowed brow. "Thank you for inviting me."

"Not at all," he replied, ushering her inside before lifting his hand to Tom who merely pulled the van away from the kerb with a roar. "It's lovely to see you."

"Hello Lily," Mrs Hall said warmly as she joined them. "As Mr Farnon said, it's lovely to see you."

"It's lovely to see you too," she replied, holding out a small container. "I made some gingerbread cake to say thank you."

"Oh, that were very kind," Mrs Hall took it from her. "Mr Farnon's very fond of gingerbread, aren't you?"

"Oh, yes, yes indeed," he agreed. Lily smiled up at him and, for a moment, he stood quite unsure what to do next.

"Perhaps you could take Lily's coat," Mrs Hall prompted.

"Yes! Forgive me," he exclaimed. "Please." She shrugged out of her coat and he hung it up on the coat stand. When he turned back, he saw that she was wearing a green dress that set off the richness of her hair and emphasised her eyes. "Would you like to come through?" he gestured in the direction of the sitting room.

"Yes, thank you," she moved in the direction he indicated, and he followed her whilst Mrs Hall returned to the kitchen. Almost immediately, she made her way over to the bookcase, her head cocked to one side as she read the various titles.

"Would you like a drink?"

"Yes, that would be lovely, thank you."

"Anything in particular? Whisky? Sherry?"

"A small sherry would be nice," she smiled at him again and then turned back to the books. "You certainly 'ave plenty books 'ere."

"Do you like to read?"

"When I get the chance. Often I'm too tired come evening time to do anything, much less give my attention to a book." She ran her fingers along some of the spines and then stopped at one in particular. " _The History of Veterinary Medicine._ I suppose you 'ave cause to look at this one from time to time."

"On occasion," he replied, handing her a glass as she pulled the book from its place. "It's rather a weighty tome."

"So I see," she laughed, taking a small sip and then placing the glass down on the coffee table to better look at the book. She began flicking through the pages and he found himself quite captivated by the action. "At least there's some pictures. That 'as to 'elp."

"I suppose it does. You're welcome to borrow it, if you wish?"

She looked at him with faint surprise. "I doubt there's anything in this book that _I_ would need to know on a day to day basis."

"Perhaps not, but if you're interested…"

She held his gaze for a long moment, and he couldn't help but wonder if she was inwardly mocking him. But she merely smiled and placed the book down on the table. "That's very kind, thank you."

"Well I did say that you should come back to the surgery one day to help me," he reminded her. "Especially after you were so good with Winston."

Laughing, she took a seat on the couch. "You do so like to exaggerate my involvement in that."

"It's no exaggeration, I assure you."

"I 'elped you find a rabbit. And only succeeded because he ran across me foot."

"Ah, but he definitely seemed to like you and that's half the battle in this game."

"'ow do you mean?"

"Well, you can't practice very effectively if you have no affinity with animals, and you do."

"And you've reached that conclusion based on one encounter with a rabbit?"

"One encounter is all it takes." She smiled broadly at him and he couldn't help but think, once again, how pretty she really was. "It's a shame that there aren't more women in the profession. After Aleen Cust one would have hoped numbers would have swelled."

"Aleen Cust?"

"Yes, she was the first female veterinary surgeon to be recognised by the Royal College back in 1922. A real trailblazer, you might say."

"And you're in favour of that? Women 'aving their own professions?"

"Aren't you, being one yourself?"

"I suppose I never really thought about it," she replied, looking down into her glass. "Most of the women I know are either in the 'ome or 'elp their 'usbands out on the farm. There aren't too many women round 'ere with professions. Though I must say, when I last visited Dr Bellamy I did think 'aving a woman doctor might be good."

"Yes, indeed." He paused. "Do you never help your father out on the farm?"

She met his gaze again. "No, not really. 'e prefers me to be indoors. I think 'e worries something might 'appen to me. What the likelihood is of me getting trampled to death by a cow or something I don't really know but…well…I think 'e worries about being left on 'is own."

"I see." He found himself thinking of Tom and how the loss of his wife had clearly affected him. If calculations were correct, Lily's mother would have died around the same time as Evelyn had and he couldn't help but wonder if his own thoughts and feelings would have been different had he been left in sole charge of a child.

"Now then!" Mrs Hall appeared at the door. "Dinner's ready if you'd like to come through."

"Would you like some wine?" Siegfried asked once they were sat at the table, ignoring the look that Mrs Hall gave him.

"Oh no, I'm fine with water, thank you," Lily replied. "A couple of small sherries are about my limit, I'm afraid. If I started on the wine, goodness only knows where I'd end up." She laughed and then looked down at her plate, as though embarrassed by what she had just said.

"Well it wouldn't be ideal having to manhandle _you_ out of the Drovers," he said jokingly, and she met his gaze and laughed again.

The meal was delicious, as all Mrs Hall's offerings were, and the conversation moved to more general matters surrounding people in the village, how the gala day had been and how Darrowby Show would fare in comparison.

"I don't know what the two of you find so amusing," Siegfried said as both Mrs Hall and Lily giggled over the role of the attending vet. "Surely it can't be _that_ taxing."

"You 'aven't done it yet," Mrs Hall reminded him. "I'll remind you that you said that once you've 'ad a turn. It's no easy task, believe me. There wasn't much that fazed Mr Grant but that…well…"

"I'm sure that Mr Farnon will be adequately up to the job," Lily said.

"Thank you, Miss Bailey. At least _someone_ around here appreciates my abilities."

"I do 'ope you'll come back to our ladies' group, Lily," Mrs Hall said suddenly. "'aving you 'ere tonight 'as made me realise 'ow much we've missed you these last few months."

Lily's smile faded and she concentrated on the remains of her meal. "I'll try, but it's not easy getting away sometimes. You know what me dad's like."

"I know, but you used to be life and soul of those meetings. I'm not casting any aspersions on any of the other attendees but it's a lot duller without you. I were fair disappointed when you stopped coming."

Lily put her cutlery down rather sharply and dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. Siegfried looked across the table at Mrs Hall and saw that she looked equally as concerned. He wondered if he should say something, ask her if she was all right, but as quick as the moment had come, it seemed to pass. Lily lifted her head again and met his gaze, a small smile on her lips. "Did your brother and 'is friend make it safely back to school then?"

"Well I certainly haven't heard to the contrary so I can only assume so," he replied. "It will probably take until the end of term for both I and the village to recover from them."

"Will 'e be going to university after the summer?"

"I hope so. He wants to study at Edinburgh, so he'll need to pull his socks up. That was delicious, Mrs Hall, as always."

"Yes," Lily agreed. "It was."

"It were no trouble," Mrs Hall said. "I've got trifle for pudding if you've got room."

"There's always room for Mrs Hall's trifle," Siegfried said, smiling at Lily. "I confess I must have put on about a stone in weight since moving here."

"You needed fattening up."

"Well I don't know about that. It's not as easy dragging oneself around paddocks and fields carrying excess weight."

"Well I don't 'ear you complaining," Mrs Hall said, spooning portions into bowls. "I certainly wouldn't like to force you."

"Most men seem to 'ave 'ealthy appetites," Lily commented. "Me dad certainly does. 'e say's it's all the fresh air what does it."

"He's probably right," Siegfried replied.

Dessert over, they retired back to the sitting room, Mrs Hall insisting on making coffee, leaving them alone again. Lily sat back down on the couch and he took the armchair opposite. The momentary concern she had expressed at the table appeared to have gone and yet he found himself returning to the topic of conversation. "Pay no heed to Mrs Hall," he said. "Whether you attend the ladies' group or not is entirely your choice."

"Oh…that…" she looked away. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude about it…"

"Not at all."

"It's just…" she sighed heavily. "Me dad doesn't like me being out at night. Especially when it's dark. 'e worries…" she trailed off. "Ridiculous, I know."

"I can only imagine a father's worry for his only child."

"But I _am_ an adult," she looked up again. "Could 'ave been married with me own children now. Surely there 'as to come a time when…you stop worrying."

"I don't suppose you ever do," he said. "I know he's my brother, not my son, but I do worry for Tristan sometimes. Well, all the time. I know I can't do much whilst he's at school or, indeed, university, but I made a promise to my father to take care of him and I'd be lying if I said it didn't weigh heavily sometimes."

She nodded slowly, "I suppose I can understand that. But you'd never stop Tristan from making 'is own way, would you? Building 'is own life, 'is own family?"

"No, heavens no. The sooner some poor girl marries him and takes him off my hands the better," he joked. "Although she would have to have some fortitude, that's for sure. He'll need a firm hand."

"I'm sure 'e'll make the right girl very 'appy one day."

"One hopes so." He couldn't help but feel affected by the apparent sadness in her expression. If he hadn't thought she had been less than truthful when she had declared some weeks ago that she was very happy, he did now. "You're still young," he said softly.

"I feel older with each day that passes," she said somewhat wistfully.

"You're, what, twenty-seven?" She nodded. "You still have your whole life in front of you. Plenty of time to do all the things you want to do."

"I'm not sure there are _tha_ t many things to be honest."

"Don't waste life, Miss Bailey," he said softly, Evelyn suddenly coming into his mind. The memory of her, so young and full of life, the image of her waving to him as the train had pulled out of the station…he felt a lump rise in his throat. "You never know just how long you're going to have."

Lily opened her mouth as though she was going to reply when Mrs Hall suddenly bustled in with the tea tray and put it down on the table. "'ere we are then. I buttered some of that gingerbread you brought Lily."

"Ah yes, as Mrs Hall said, I do love gingerbread," he said jovially as she handed him a cup.

"I'm glad," Lily replied. "It were that or scones and I thought I'd best try something different for you."

"Well, we're much obliged to you, aren't we Mrs Hall?"

"Most definitely," Mrs Hall nodded, sitting down on the couch next to Lily. "Don't let me interrupt."

"Oh, we were just talking about, well, nothing really," Lily said, smiling at him again and lifting the book that still sat on the coffee table. "I'll be looking forward to getting stuck into this."

"Oh Lord, you'll be bored rigid," Mrs Hall lamented.

The conversation once again returned to generalities and yet Siegfried couldn't help tuning out slightly and simply focusing on his guest. The way she moved, the way she smiled, the look in her eyes from time to time…he found himself comparing every nuance to Evelyn, for reasons that he knew not. They were so different in so many ways. Evelyn had been tall, rake-thin with dark hair and dark eyes. Lily was smaller, slightly more rounded, with hair the colour of fire and eyes that were so pale as to be almost like water. Evelyn had been forthright and opinionated. Lily seemed quieter, gentler somehow and yet, he thought, that was perhaps due more to her father's influence than her own personality. Evelyn had been all that he had ever wanted, could ever want and yet…

The chiming of the clock suddenly caused Lily to sit up straight and glance at her watch. "Heavens, I didn't realise the time."

"Can I give you a lift home?" Siegfried asked.

"No, no, me father said if I rang 'im, 'e would come and collect me," she replied, her face pinking at the words. "Is it all right to use the telephone?"

"Of course," Mrs Hall said, "it's by the door."

"Thank you." Rising from the couch, Lily disappeared into the hallway, returning a few moments later, her expression drawn. "I'm sorry…would you mind…?"

"Yes?" he got to his feet.

"'s 'ad a drink and 'e's in no fit state to drive. I'm sorry, I know it's a terrible imposition…"

"Not at all. I'll be happy to drive you home."

"Thank you," she said, looking at the floor. "I appreciate that. Thank you very much for inviting me. It were a lovely meal, Audrey."

"You're more than welcome, any time," Mrs Hall replied.

"I shall 'ave to 'ave you both up to Windy Hill to repay the kindness," she laughed awkwardly. "Oh, I best not forget the book." Lifting it from the table, she held it to herself as Siegfried returned with her coat and helped her put it on. "Thank you." Kissing Mrs Hall briefly on the cheek, she allowed him to guide her out of the door and round to where the car was waiting. Once inside and on the road out of the village, she glanced over at him. "I can't thank you enough."

"It's a lift home I'm giving you, not a kidney," he joked, but she merely turned to look out of the window. "I do hope you had an enjoyable evening?"

"Oh yes!" she enthused, turning back to look at him. "I 'ad a lovely time, truly I did. It were good to 'ave a change of scene for once."

"Well it was nice for us to have a change of conversation too." He paused, weighing up the wisdom of saying more and deciding to throw caution to the wind. "I meant what I said earlier."

"About not wasting life?"

"Indeed."

"You were thinking about your wife, weren't you?"

"Yes…" he said, somewhat taken off guard at her response. "I suppose I was."

"She must 'ave been very young when she passed."

"Twenty-three."

"I'm so sorry."

"It was a long time ago now." He turned up the hill towards the farm and, moments later, pulled into the yard. "Should I come inside with you?"

"No, that's all right, thank you." She turned to look at him again and paused. "You're a nice man, Mr Farnon."

He thought back on Mrs Hall's earlier words. "And you're a nice young woman, Miss Bailey."

She smiled at him and then hurriedly leaned over and kissed his cheek before opening the car door and stepping out into the cool night air. He watched as she made her way to the farmhouse door, pausing to wave slightly before disappearing inside. Turning the car around, he made his way back down towards the village, his cheek burning the entire way.


	8. Chapter 8

**16 May 1931**

"Maybe I should just stay 'ere."

Lily turned around from the stove to look at her father, ensconced as he was at the table finishing off the remnants of his breakfast. "Why would you want to do that?"

"Well, you know…beasts need looking after…"

"But you've done all you would do today already anyway. I don't think Cousin Joe would be too 'appy at you crying off at the last minute. 'e enjoys your visits."

"I know…" he eyed her carefully. "If I _do_ go, what are you going to do?"

"The usual, I suppose," she replied, turning back around. "Some cleaning and tidying. Might take a walk in the 'ills this afternoon given it's a nice day. Stop worrying about me and go and enjoy yourself."

"Hmmm…"

She sighed inwardly, fervently hoping that he indeed wasn't going to change his mind and elect to stay at home. His regular visits to his cousin Joe over in Wensleydale were one of the few occasions where she had the place to herself. It allowed her to breathe a little and do something for herself without the constant scrutiny of someone being over her shoulder all the time, watching her every move. She had been looking forward to it since he had told her he was intending to go, especially as the sun was shining particularly brightly and he wouldn't return until the following morning.

"You can drop me at church on your way," she said cheerfully, taking off her apron and turning back around to face him. "Come on Dad. You know you'll enjoy it once you get there."

"I suppose so." He looked at her again. "You'll be all right 'ere until morning?"

"Yes, I always am," she sighed. "Now, come on, or we'll both be late."

Grumbling under his breath, Tom rose from the table and, moments later, they were in the van heading down towards the village. "That a new 'at?" he observed over the noise of the engine.

"This?" she touched her head briefly. "Yes, I bought it at the gala. Do you like it?"

"Bit over the top for church, isn't it?"

"Over the top? It's just an 'at, dad. A normal, black 'at."

"Hmmm…" he murmured again. "You don't normally get so dressed up for church."

"I always wear an 'at."

"Do you?"

"Yes." She rolled her eyes and turned her gaze outwards to the passing countryside, knowing what he was getting at and choosing to ignore it. Clearly he thought that the wearing of a hat, any hat, was for the benefit of someone other than herself and whilst not strictly true, she couldn't help but hope that she might see Mr Farnon at the kirk that morning. After she had been to Skeldale House for dinner two weeks previously, she had written him a brief letter of thanks for a pleasant evening and indicated that she was already two chapters into the book on veterinary medicine. Not expecting a reply, she had been surprised when, a few days later, one had arrived. In it, he had thanked her for her company, hoped that she was enjoying the book and that, no doubt, he would see her again soon. The last few weeks, however, had not led to any further meetings and, for that, she had found herself feeling slightly disappointed.

Tom pulled up around the corner from the church and yanked on the handbrake. "You 'ave a nice day then, lass."

"I will," she kissed him on the cheek. "Say hello to Joe for me." Hopping out, she waved him goodbye and then began walking smartly along the road, ducking into a pew at the back of the church just as the service was about to start. As Reverend Thwaite's voice flowed around her, she found herself wondering why she often bothered attending. So far as her own faith went, well, she wasn't altogether sure she really had any and none of his sermons ever seemed to make much sense to her. By the time the hymns had been sung, the prayers offered and the service had ended, she found herself feeling quite impatient to get back to Windy Hill and prepare for her afternoon.

"Morning lass," Henry Dinsdale greeted her as the congregation spilled outside. "Yer dad away on his trip then?"

"Yes, he dropped me off."

"You'll be needing a lift back to the farm then?"

"Well, I was going to walk, but if you don't mind…"

"Not a problem, lass. Let me just find Mother and we can be on our way."

Lily smiled as he disappeared into the throng in search of his wife and cast her face upwards to the sun, feeling herself relax in its warmth.

"Miss Bailey?" The sound of his voice brought her up sharply and she snapped her head back down in time to meet Siegfried's amused gaze. "I don't believe staring at the sun is recommended."

"No, I suppose not," she laughed. "I was just…well…it's nice to 'ave good weather, isn't it?"

"Very much so," he agreed, then glanced around. "Your father not here?"

"No, 'e's away to visit 'is cousin Joe over in Wensleydale. 'e likes to go there a few times a year, 'ave a few drinks, put the world to rights, sleep it off and come back the next day, fresh as a daisy."

"I see. Then you're…on your own today?"

"Very much so and I'm looking forward to it. I like to go walking in the 'ills when the weather's good and…well…knowing that me dad isn't at 'ome waiting for me makes it all the better. Sorry…" she suddenly felt a wave of shame wash over her. "I shouldn't 'ave said that. It sounds…"

"No, it doesn't," he laughed. "It sounds like a perfectly wonderful way to spend such a glorious afternoon."

For a moment, she couldn't think of what else to say and then seized upon his recent letter. "I got your letter. The one in reply to mine, I mean. I did think about replying but then I thought that _you_ might then feel obliged to reply and then _I_ might and so on…"

"I would always be pleased to receive a letter from you," he said. "And replying would never be an obligation."

"Oh…well then…" she felt herself blush. "I don't suppose…"

"You don't suppose what?" he asked when she didn't continue.

"Well I…" she cursed herself for being so inept and yet couldn't help but wonder how he might take what she had been about to suggest. "I don't know 'ow well you know the 'ills round 'ere and, well, I wondered if you might….well…if you might like to come with me this afternoon." He hesitated and she immediately felt stupid. What had she been thinking even suggesting it? "It's all right, you don't 'ave to…"

"No! No, I would…I would very much like to," he replied hurriedly. "Yes…indeed. What time were you thinking?"

"Well I usually tend to leave about 'alf past one, make the most of the time. I can 'pack us a bit of lunch if you'd like."

"That sounds…splendid," he said. "I shall just have to tell Mrs Hall." He turned away and then back again. "That's a very lovely hat, by the way."

"Oh…" she felt her face flush. "That's very kind of you to say."

"Half past one at Windy Hill then?" She nodded. "Excellent. Ah, Mr Dinsdale." He touched his hat as Henry approached. "Lovely day, isn't it? Lovely day."

"That it is," Henry replied as Siegfried hurried away, turning back to her with a frown. "Mr Farnon weren't bothering you, lass, were 'e?"

"No, not at all," she replied, feeling a curious warmth flood her belly. "Not at all."

XXXX

Once back at the farm, Lily busied herself getting changed into outdoor clothes and putting together some supplies for their walk. Bread, butter, ham and cheese all went into the bag she usually took, along with a bottle of ginger and some gingerbread cake. As she packed, she found herself hoping that he would like it and then chastised herself for worrying over something so nonsensical. "It's just a walk in the 'ills," she muttered to herself. "Don't be so bloody stupid."

Just before half past one, she heard the sound of a vehicle approaching and, glancing out of the kitchen window, saw Siegfried's car pull up in the yard. When he got out and saw her, he smiled, and she felt a slight giddy excitement inside.

"I hope I'm not late," he commented when she opened the door.

"Right on time," she replied. "I was just putting the food together. I 'ope Mrs Hall didn't mind you missing a meal at Skeldale House."

"Oh, I think she'll be glad of the peace and quiet. I'm sure she thinks I should do more countryside rambling. Do you agree that I'm suitably attired?"

She looked him up and down, at the boots, trousers, jacket and hat he was wearing and smiled. "I think you look ideal."

"As do you." He paused and she saw him pink slightly. "Well, lead on Miss Bailey, the scenery awaits!"

"I think if we're going to be tramping over the countryside together, you really should call me Lily."

"Lily," he repeated, and she felt a slight thrill at the way he said her name. "I suppose, in that case, you should call me Siegfried."

"Well then Siegfried," she smiled. "Let's go."

They left around the back of the farm, treading a well-worn path that she had taken plenty of times before leading down the hill around the far field and then rising again into the gentle slope of the hills. Their conversation was general, the weather, the morning sermon and recent cases he had had at the surgery.

"Business is good then?"

"Well I can't complain. There would have been little point in coming to Darrowby to sit idle. But I would like to increase my customer base if I could. The trouble is, there's not really a shortage of vets in these parts and many people, particularly farmers, are wedded to the person they know best." He paused to take a breath. "Now you didn't say we were going to be mountain climbing."

"It's 'ardly a mountain," she laughed. "We can stop at the brow of this 'ill up 'ere. It's me favourite spot. Wonderful views down over the valley."

"I shall take your word for it."

"I will be very disappointed if you can't make it."

"Well…I would hate to cause disappointment to any lady," he huffed. "So, I shall endeavour…to push on…"

Moments later, they had cleared the brow and the valley spread out before them like a rich tapestry. Though she had seen it many times before, it never failed to make Lily's heart swell with the beauty of it all. The grass, the rocks, the streams. "God's country," she said, putting the bag down on the grass. "Where else in the world would you find views like that?"

"Yes, indeed…" Siegfried said, throwing himself down onto the grass, breathing heavily. "And I'm sure I shall need the good Lord to get me back down again." Laughing, she sat down beside him and proceeded to empty the contents of the bag, making him a sandwich and then passing it to him. "You said this was your favourite spot."

"I love coming up 'ere," she nodded. "It's one of the few places where I feel…I don't know…free, I suppose. Away from me dad and the farm and...everything else. I won't lie, the times he goes to Wensleydale and I can come up 'ere…they're the best days." She paused and glanced over to see him watching her. "I suppose you must find that rather dull."

"Why would I find it dull? You enjoy coming up here and it's hardly dull."

"No, I mean…that this, coming 'ere, would be what I would consider one of me best days. I'm sure you 'ave far more exciting ways to spend your time."

"Well I'm hardly out causing high-jinks and mayhem in my spare time. I prefer to leave that sort of affair to Tristan." He paused, looking out again over the landscape. "It _is_ very beautiful. Evelyn would have loved it too. She adored the countryside."

"Evelyn?"

"My late wife. She grew up in a place not unlike this. Her parents ran a dairy farm and that's how we met. My father tended to their herd and I used to go with him on his calls there, initially to learn more about caring for large animals but, latterly, to see her."

Lily paused. He had never mentioned his wife again, not since commenting on her struggles with her monthlies or his caution that she not waste her life, and though she didn't want to say anything that might upset him, she found herself overcome with curiosity about the woman. "Can I ask…'ow she died?"

"Brucellosis, May 1917. Fourteen years ago next week, in fact."

"Brucellosis?"

"It's a condition arising from consuming infected dairy products. She drank some contaminated milk. Her father never forgave himself for it…nor me."

"Surely neither of you were to blame?"

"She was staying with her parents at their farm whilst I was away with my regiment. They didn't want her to be by herself and I suppose it made me feel better that she wasn't alone. It was whilst she was there that she drank the milk and so he…he blamed himself for that and…and me for her being there in the first place. And for not being there afterwards. I was in Belgium, you see and…well, news didn't reach us there very timeously. By the time I found out what had happened, she was dead and buried. Took me weeks to get home and, well, then there seemed little point." He met her gaze, and she could see the pain in his eyes.

"I'm so sorry," she said. "I can't imagine how awful that must 'ave been for you. I suppose…at least you 'ad your family to support you once you got 'ome."

"Well Father and I had our differences. He wasn't too pleased when I told him that Evelyn and I were to be married. The irony of the fact that he and my mother had been around the same age when _they_ wed appeared completely lost on him."

"'e thought you were too young?"

"Yes, he was worried that I wouldn't finish veterinary college, that Evelyn might fall pregnant and that I might be tempted to take a lesser job to make ends meet. The second irony being that Mother then fell pregnant with Tristan which wasn't exactly what you might call planned." He shook his head. "But in the end, the war came, and I joined up. Father didn't approve of that either. As a vet, I could have avoided the draft, our services being essential to the country but…but I wanted to go. Wanted to 'do my bit' as it were." He paused. "I suppose I hoped that Evelyn's tragic passing might have brought us all closer, might have…healed the rift but, well, six months later Mother died and Father was left with Tristan to care for."

"I suppose that can't 'ave been easy for 'im."

"I suppose not…anyway, a year later he was remarried and Tristan…I…we…gained a very lovely stepmother. But I suppose part of me never understood how he could do that. Remarry, I mean. There was I, mourning the loss of _my_ wife and not even contemplating replacing her and yet he…"

"Maybe you might 'ave felt differently if you'd 'ad a child."

"Perhaps I would have. It's certainly something I've considered but I suppose I'll never know."

For a long moment neither of them said anything and the only sound came from the birds flying overhead and the occasional breath of wind. Looking at him, Lily could feel his pain. It was still there, even after so many years, his wife's death coming a mere month after her own mother's. Who would ever have guessed that two people, sat together in May 1931, would have been in such similar anguish fourteen years earlier?

"My apologies," he said suddenly, turning to her. "You don't need to hear all of this."

"I don't mind," she replied honestly. "It can be good to 'ave someone to talk to sometimes. About things that…well…that you maybe can't talk about with other people. I'm guessing you don't say much about this to Tristan."

"No," he shook his head. "He barely remembers Evelyn or our mother. I feel sorry for him in that regard for they were both wonderful people." He looked at her again. "And you? Do you talk to anyone? About your life, your father?"

She paused and looked away, painfully aware of how seemingly insignificant her own problems must appear to him when he had endured one of the greatest losses imaginable. "It doesn't really seem like something worth complaining about. You've been to war, seen so much suffering, endured a terrible loss…me complaining about me dad seems stupid by comparison."

"It's not stupid," he said softly. "Not if it makes you unhappy and it clearly does."

Her eyes pricked with tears again. "I just wish sometimes…that 'e 'ad let me 'ave me own life. That 'e 'didn't try to smother me, make me feel as though I couldn't ever leave 'im. Not that there 'ave been any young men knocking on the door but…but 'e's never even tried to encourage me, never made me feel that 'aving someone of me own, 'aving me own 'ome and me own children was something that I should want. All 'e wants is for me to stay at Windy Hill for as long as 'e lives and then bugger what 'appens afterwards." She paused, suddenly embarrassed by her use of profanity and yet unable to bring herself to apologise. "Me mother died…and I took over right where she 'ad left off. I told you before that I don't know anything about running the farm because 'e won't let me do anything. Just tells me it isn't for me to worry about, that I should just stay inside, make the supper, wash up, clean, do the laundry…" she looked over at him again. "I don't mind doing all those things because, if I were married to someone, then I would expect to do all that anyway but…is that all there's ever going to be to my life?"

"It shouldn't be," he said after a moment. "It absolutely shouldn't be. You deserve to be happy, just like everyone else."

"You said you were content, remember?" she reminded him. "You never said you were 'appy."

"No, I didn't. Perhaps…perhaps I've let myself think that way since Evelyn died. Made myself believe that I never _could_ be happy, not without her being here with me." He paused. " _You_ said you _were_ happy, but that was clearly a lie."

"I try to tell myself that I _am_ 'appy. Believing it, or at least trying to, makes each day more bearable I suppose." Laughing, she wiped her eyes and got to her feet, conscious that she had probably said far too much. "What are we like? A right pair of miserable moaners. Come on, we'd best get back down. I've got a nice bit of beef for tea, if you'd like to stay that is."

Siegfried followed her lead and smiled down at her. "That would be very kind, thank you."

"Good. If there's one thing I 'ate it's seeing good food go to waste."

"You sound like Mrs Hall," he said, "though younger and marginally prettier."

"Only marginally?" she joked as they started back down the hill.

"Well…" he replied. "Significantly marginally."

Laughing and joking they made it back to the farm in good time, the moroseness of the earlier conversation seemingly gone, and it felt almost the most natural thing in the world for him to sit at the table whilst she busied herself preparing the meal. She found she didn't mind in the same way that her father's expectation irked her. As she worked, he talked about Tristan's latest escapades at school and she spoke about what she had read in the book he had loaned her.

"So, you found it interesting then?" he enquired.

"Yes, very much so. It certainly makes for more taxing reading than the local paper, but I suppose that's no bad thing." She turned and placed a plate down in front of him. "I 'ope you like it. The gravy's one of me mother's recipes. She was very talented in the kitchen."

"It's delicious," he enthused. "You may not think it, but there's a skill to being a good baker and a good cook and you excel at both. Believe me, I've had many a meal put down in front of me that was far inferior."

"Not another dig at Mrs Hall I 'ope."

"No, Mrs Hall is an excellent cook, I have to give her that. My own mother was less talented in that department, though she tried her best, bless her."

They ate in companionable silence for a while, but Lily couldn't help feeling discomfited by what she had told him out on the hills. It seemed wrong, somehow, to have poured her heart out to someone she barely knew, and a man at that. Though he was making a good show of not being concerned by it, she couldn't help but wonder what he was really thinking. "Siegfried…"

"Yes?"

"I wanted to apologise…for what I said earlier about, well, me father and…that."

"Why would you want to apologise?" he asked, observing her curiously. "You were the one who said that it was good to have someone to talk to after listening to _my_ woes."

"Well…I know, but…your feelings are entirely valid, whereas mine…"

"Are equally so," he interrupted her. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, especially not your father."

She felt warmth flood her insides again at his validation and, for a moment, she thought she might cry. He was a nice man, a _lovely_ man, someone that she had enjoyed spending time with and yet…nothing could ever come of it. Her father would never let her have her own life, of that she was sure. Too much time had passed. And Siegfried…well, she had only had to look in his eyes when he was talking to see how much he still loved his wife. By the time he was getting ready to leave, she had resolved that they most likely wouldn't see each other again, except as passing acquaintances.

"I've had the loveliest of afternoons," he said, as she walked him out to the car. "I really have."

"As 'ave I," she replied honestly. He looked at her for a long moment and she found her gaze forced to the ground under the weight of his own. "Well, I suppose…"

"Would you have dinner with me again?"

The question came so out of the blue that Lily found herself quite taken aback. "Oh…well I'd 'ate to put Mrs Hall out again so soon…"

"No, not with Mrs Hall, just with me. Just the two of us. There's a lovely little place over in Helmsdale that I think you'd like." He paused as she fought for a response. "I mean, if you'd like to check with your father first then of course…"

"No," she said hurriedly. "No, I don't need to check with 'im. I'd be delighted to 'ave dinner with you, thank you."

"Oh, oh well…" he beamed. "Well that's splendid. How does next Saturday suit?"

"It suits very well."

"Splendid. Just splendid. Well, I shall be in touch this week then to firm up the arrangements and…and I look forward to it." He hesitated slightly and then kissed her cheek. "Well, goodbye Lily."

"Goodbye Siegfried." She watched as he turned the car, waved and then started driving down the hill away from her. "Oh Lily…" she sighed to herself. "What 'ave you done?"


	9. Chapter 9

**22 May 1931**

As he drove the road up to Windy Hill the following Saturday evening, Siegfried couldn't help but having misgivings about the entire venture. When he had suggested to Lily that he take her for dinner, he had been caught up in the aftermath of a lovely afternoon spent in amiable company, yet when he had returned home and thought more about it, he couldn't help but wonder if he had made a terrible mistake.

Evelyn's anniversary had come and gone, and he had spent the day the way he usually did, doing things as normal and yet often pausing for quiet reflection upon her. She would have been thirty-seven and he wondered how she might have changed in the intervening years. He wondered if they would have had children and how many. He wondered where they would be living, and he wondered if he would still have loved her as fiercely as he had done the last time he saw her. He had mentioned the significance of the day in passing to Mrs Hall and she had said little, but had made him his favourite meal for dinner and been extra kind and less critical of him than she might otherwise have been.

Of course, thinking about Evelyn had then automatically led to him thinking about Lily and their upcoming meeting. He wanted to see her, indeed her face often came into his mind when he was least expecting it, but part of him felt as though enjoying her company was almost a betrayal to his wife, despite the many years that had passed. Being, as he was however, a gentleman, he had resolved to go through with the evening and had telephoned Windy Hill in order to confirm the arrangements. Tom had answered and informed him, in a suspicious and none too welcoming tone, that Lily was ill in bed, news which had greatly discomfited him and yet, he couldn't help but hope, might mean that she would require to cancel. The following afternoon, he had spied Tom in the village and had taken the opportunity to call the farm again. This time, Lily herself had answered, reassured him that she was fine and that she was looking forward to their dinner, at which point he felt he had little choice but to agree.

"I 'ope you both 'ave a lovely time," Mrs Hall had said, fixing his tie slightly at the front door.

"Yes, I'm sure we shall," he had replied with as much conviction as he could muster and had smiled over her concerned frown, stating that he was merely tired after another busy week. He knew that his housekeeper would be less than impressed if he were to confess that he was having second thoughts.

The day had been bright and warm and he found the sun in his eyes as he approached the farmhouse, suddenly painfully aware that he hadn't brought anything. The idea of flowers had flitted briefly through his mind earlier in the week, but, somehow, he had pushed the notion to one side. He could only hope that she wouldn't be offended. As he pulled to a halt, the door of the house opened, and Lily appeared. She was wearing a red dress with black trim and a black hat and he couldn't help being momentarily frozen as he looked at her. Though he had seen her in various modes of dress, kitchen, church, hill-climbing, he was instantly struck by how beautiful she looked. She smiled broadly as she approached the car and he found himself forcing the same greeting onto his own face as he climbed out.

"Hello," she said.

"Hello," he replied, his voice sounding reedy to his own ears. "You look…lovely."

"Oh, thank you. You scrub up pretty well yourself."

"Yes…well…"

"Shall we go?" she asked upon his hesitation.

"Oh, yes, yes…I suppose I wondered if I needed to speak to your father before we left."

"About what?"

"Well…perhaps he would like some reassurance about my intentions? Or that I'll have you back at a sensible hour?"

"No, it's fine," she replied hurriedly, glancing over her shoulder. "There's no need."

He was about to enquire further, when the door opened again and Tom appeared, his expression dark, and as he moved towards them, Siegfried could almost feel Lily tense by his side. "Good evening, Mr Bailey," he greeted him.

"Mr Farnon," Tom replied in a low voice, his eyes shifting to his daughter. Lily kept her own gaze on the ground, giving no indication that she wished to acknowledge him. "You going far?"

"Helmsdale."

"I see." Tom paused. "You bring my lass back in one piece now, you 'ear?"

"Of course," he replied, glancing at Lily again. "Shall we?" She nodded imperceptibly and allowed him to open the car door for her. Once closed, he made his way back around to the driver's side, only for Tom to step closer to him.

"I meant what I said," he said quietly. "You touch one 'air on my lass's 'ead…"

"I'm taking her for dinner, Mr Bailey, not to a bordello," he replied, trying to make light of the situation and yet quickly realising that the other man was not to be so entertained. "I promise you that Lily will come to no harm whilst in my company." Finally, Tom stood back, and he quickly climbed into the car beside her.

"What did 'e say?" she asked, as he turned and began driving back down the hill.

"Oh, he just wanted to make sure that I took care of you," he replied, glancing in the rear mirror at her father's rapidly decreasing figure. "As any father would, I'm sure."

She sighed and shook her head. "'e wasn't too pleased when I told 'im you were taking me for dinner. We 'ad words about it."

"Really?"

"I said some things, 'e said some things…"

"And?"

"Well I told 'im I was going, whether 'e liked it or not. I left his supper in the oven for 'im so 'e can't complain."

"Good for you," he said, feeling a strange sense of pride at her forthrightness. "I bet it felt good standing up to him."

"Yes and no." She paused for a long moment. "But I'm sure we 'ave far better things to talk about than 'im."

"Oh, yes. Absolutely." She started talking about the book again and though he should have listened, he found himself tuning out, Evelyn coming back into his mind. He could hear her voice in his head, that last time they had spoken at the train station and see her as clear as though it had been yesterday.

 _"I love you, Siegfried Farnon,"_ she had said, her eyes full of tears. _"Make sure you come back to me."_

 _"And I love you, my darling,"_ he had replied, holding her tightly. _"More than you will ever know."_

"Siegfried?"

"Yes! What? I…eh…" he jolted back to reality and glanced over to see Lily looking at him curiously. "Forgive me, I was just…ah…thinking…" he paused. "I'm sorry, what was the question again?"

"I was just asking what if there 'ad ever been an operation that you 'adn't been able to do."

"Oh…oh, plenty. Sometimes…sometimes the risk itself is greater than the potential for reward." He smiled at her, hoping that he had answered adequately, and she smiled back at him. "Ah, we're here!" Pulling the car to a stop, he got out and opened her door, offering her his arm as they made their way inside. It was a small establishment, yet fairly well attended, the soft strains of music coming from a hidden wireless.

"This is nice," Lily commented as he pushed her chair in for her. "I didn't know this place was 'ere."

"Neither did I until I was passing through one day on my way back from a call. I thought about bringing Tristan when he was home, but I rather think he might find it less than exciting. Not that I think for a moment that _you_ wouldn't like something exciting, of course."

"I like it very much," she smiled in response.

As they ordered, ate and talked, to his surprise he found Evelyn slipping further and further to the back of his mind, present company occupying his attention completely. Conversation with Lily seemed to flow so freely and there never appeared a moment when neither one had nothing to say. Her face lit up when she laughed, her smile wide and bright and he thought it was the most radiant he had seen her, released from the cage that she had allowed her father to trap her in. All topics were covered, from the surgery to village gossip, Tristan and Lily spoke a little about her mother, recounting some of the things that they used to do together before her death. She talked about her mother showing her how to cook and the conversation naturally seemed to move on to Mrs Hall.

"I must say she is an excellent housekeeper," he admitted over coffee. "I rather think I landed on my feet with her."

"She's always been a very kind person, too kind sometimes."

"How do you mean?"

"Well…I probably shouldn't really say too much but 'er son, Edward, is…well, 'e's always brought 'er a lot of worry."

"In what way?" he frowned.

"'e was never very diligent at the school and 'e got 'imself into a bit of bother a few years ago. I mean, 'e can't be more than twenty or so now, but 'e fell in with a bit of a bad crowd. The police were involved, and I know that it affected Audrey deeply. She's raised 'im on 'er own since she left 'er 'usband."

"She left him? I always assumed…well…it's never been discussed, but I just presumed she was a widow."

"Oh no, 'er 'usband was a bad lot too. 'e 'ad a terrible temper and, while I don't know exactly what went on between them, I don't think she 'ad it easy with 'im. When she left 'im, 'e went crazy and smashed up their 'ouse. Luckily, Mr Grant was looking for an 'ousekeeper by then, 'is previous ones 'aving retired to London, and 'e gave 'er a job and 'er and Edward a place to stay."

"And what happened to her husband?"

"From what I 'ear, he just upped and left one day. No-one really knew anything, other than 'e was gone. That must 'ave been…oh…three years ago now, maybe more."

"Poor Mrs Hall…" he sat back in his chair. "How awful for her."

"She seems much 'appier on 'er own. Apart from the troubles with Edward, that is." She sat forwards, her expression turning suddenly earnest. "But please, don't tell 'er I said anything. I would 'ate 'er to think that I was gossiping about 'er personal business. I've known 'er a good many years now."

"No, of course I won't say a word." He smiled at her. "You've got a good heart."

"I don't know about that," she blushed.

"You do, I can tell. You're a very kind person." She smiled and looked down at the table and he felt a sudden rush of something that he couldn't quite identify. "Shall we?"

"Yes, thank you." He pulled her chair out for her and once again offered his arm as they made their way back outside. The sun had long since started to sink, casting long shadows over the ground, and there was a coolness to the air. "Dinner was lovely, thank you very much for inviting me."

"It was my pleasure," he said, turning to face her as they reached the car. "I enjoy your company."

"As I enjoy yours."

She smiled up at him, her expression filled with warmth. He found his gaze slipping to her mouth, lips red and inviting and he found his own inhibitions slowly lowering. "You're a very…"

"Very what?"

"A very beautiful woman," he heard himself say.

Her face flushed slightly, and she ducked her head, "You don't mean that…"

"I do," he moved closer to her as she looked up again and he could hear a faint humming in his ears. "I thought it the first time that I saw you. I hate to think of you feeling so…trapped by your father when there's…so much life in you. I saw it that day on the hill."

"Oh…" her expression became mildly panicked and, for a moment, he thought she might turn and flee. Before she could, however, he found his hands moving to rest on her arms, his upper body pressing against hers and his mouth inches from her own. "Siegfried…" she began, but he kissed her before she could say anything else.

She felt…different and yet familiar and the overwhelming feeling when he pulled away from her was that he desperately wanted to be connected to her again. Without waiting to find out whether she would welcome it, he kissed her again, harder and with more intensity than the first time, and he half expected her to push him away, slap him and berate him for his forwardness. But she did none of those things. Instead, he felt her arms slide up and around his neck as his own moved around her back, pulling her into him. She held him as tightly as he was holding her and reciprocated with as ardent a desire as he himself felt. He had never touched another woman in that way in all the years that had passed, and he felt his body react in a way seemingly long forgotten.

"Oh my…" he breathed when they finally broke apart. "I…" He looked down into her eyes, so pale and yet so full of life and warmth, at the tentative smile on her lips still so close to his own. "Have you ever… have you ever been kissed before?" It was a ridiculous question and one which he expected her to ridicule him for, but she merely shook her head, her gaze still locked on his.

"No, never. Not by any man."

In a split second, a thousand emotions swept over him. Sorrow, that she had never before experienced something so wonderful, satisfaction that it had been he who had been the first and, most pressing of all, guilt.

Guilt that she wasn't Evelyn.

Guilt that he belonged to another.

It came crashing down on him so suddenly that it almost seemed to physically hurt. Lily pressed herself against him again, clearly hoping for another repeat, but he found himself pulling away from her, putting space between them. "I'm…I'm sorry."

"For what?" she asked, frowning slightly.

"For…for putting hands on you. For…for kissing you like that…"

"You don't 'ave to be sorry, not in a million years."

"I do. I do. I promised your father that I wouldn't harm you and…and I have…"

"You 'aven't 'armed me! Not at all, not for one moment!"

"Maybe not physically but…oh Lord…" he turned away from her, as though not looking at her could make him feel better, could make him feel less…guilty. "I shouldn't have…I can't…" closing his eyes, all he could see was Evelyn's face before him. What had he done? He had betrayed her, betrayed her memory and now, all he wished he could do was somehow transport himself far, far away.

"Were it that bad?"

The sound of her voice brought him back to himself and he turned around quickly to look at her again, unable to miss the hurt-filled expression on her face. "No, no of course not."

"If you didn't want to kiss me, you didn't 'ave to."

"I know."

"You must 'ave wanted to, otherwise why did you?" Her gaze flitted about between his own, the ground and the immediate surrounding area and her obvious embarrassment and discomfort only made him feel worse.

"I did want to. I _do_ want to. It's just that…I suppose I can't expect you to understand."

For a moment, she just looked at him before realisation dawned. "Oh…I see. I'm not…I'm not your wife. 'ow stupid of me. I…I should have known…"

"No, it's not…" he fought for words, any words, that might help convey that it was in no way possible her fault and yet he found himself faltering like a schoolboy.

"No, I realised last week on the 'ill," she said. "I realised when you were talking about 'er 'ow much you still loved her, still missed 'er. It were obvious in everything that you said. Truth is, I was surprised when you asked me to 'ave dinner with you. I didn't think that you would. I should 'ave said no. I should 'ave followed me gut but…but with what you 'ad said about living life and not letting me father dictate…"

He closed his eyes and sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"You don't 'ave to be sorry. Your wife was a lucky woman. I envy 'er." He opened his eyes again. "I mean, not for what 'appened to 'er of course, but for the fact that she were so loved by you. So loved, that all these years later you still mourn 'er. Much like me dad, I suppose."

The comparison to Tom brought him up somehow short. "I'm not…I'm not like your father. I would never…never stifle someone as full of life as you are, with so much to give." He stepped towards her again. "Any man, _any man_ , would be lucky to be in your favour."

"Just not you," she said, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "I understand."

"I'm sorry," he repeated, feeling that the word was somehow so inadequate.

"I suppose I should thank you," she stepped back and laughed. "At least I can say I've been kissed now. I don't feel _quite_ as pathetic as I did ten minutes ago. Embarrassed, perhaps, but not pathetic."

"Lily…"

"It might be a good idea to take me 'ome now, don't you think?" She moved away from him around to the passenger side of the car and, without waiting, opened the door and slid inside, closing it firmly behind her. He felt wretched, so utterly wretched, for so many reasons. Part of him wanted to avoid getting in the car, avoid being near her, but he knew that he had no other option than to slide in beside her.

They drove back to Windy Hill in silence, the atmosphere so different from that which had been before. She kept her gaze fixed on the darkening horizon and though he opened his mouth to start a million different conversations, he felt as though anything he might say would simply sound trite.

When he reached the farm he stopped, pulled on the handbrake and turned to look at her again. "Lily…"

"Thank you for dinner."

He paused. "I _am_ sorry."

"You don't 'ave to keep saying it," she said lightly." I'll bid you goodnight now and…and farewell."

"Farewell…?" he echoed.

"Well there's probably little point is us meeting again, is there? It would likely just be too awkward, for both of us."

"I…"

She opened the car door and then turned back to look at him. "Let me say this, though. You talked about not being like me dad, that you would never stifle someone so full of life. You're more like 'im than you think, only the person you're stifling is yourself." With that, she jumped out and hurried into the farmhouse, gone before he could even consider how else to reply.

"You stupid fool," he cursed himself as he made his way back to the village. "You stupid, stupid fool."

"Nice evening?" Mrs Hall enquired when he stepped into the sitting room.

"Yes," he lied. "Yes, it was very pleasant."

"Glad to 'ear it," she smiled, turning back to the newspaper.

"I'll…uh…I'll just go up."

"All right then, goodnight Mr Farnon."

"Goodnight Mrs Hall." He climbed the stairs slowly to his bedroom, closing and locking the door behind him before sitting down on the edge of the bed. "You should never have gone," he said to himself. "You should have made up an excuse. You should _definitely_ never have kissed her. What were you thinking?" He put his head in his hands and screwed his eyes shut, desperate to block out the memory of what had taken place and yet, ashamedly, he could still feel her in his arms. "You led her on, you made her think that…what kind of a man are you?" He got to his feet and moved to the window, looking out to the fields beyond. "There can never be anyone else, there just…can't be…" His mind flitted back to what Tristan had said, about how Evelyn would have wanted him to be happy and yet… "How can I be happy? How can I be happy when you're not here? I can't be happy, I just can't and yet I'm so _useless_ at putting into words…" he paused, a thought suddenly striking him and, unlocking his door, headed back down into the sitting room.

"Everything all right?" Mrs Hall asked, as he opened the drawer of the sideboard and took out some writing paper and a pen.

"Yes, fine," he replied, moving to sit down at the table.

"What are you writing?"

He paused, the pen hovering over the paper before him. "A letter."


	10. Chapter 10

**26 May 1931**

She felt like a fool, a stupid fool, and the feeling followed her around for days after she had said goodnight to Siegfried. Coming back into the farmhouse she had, unsurprisingly, found her father waiting for her, clearly desperate for information as to what had transpired between them. She had told him that she had had a pleasant evening and left it at that, heading up to bed without wishing to divulge anything further about how she felt.

As she had lain in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, she had thought about how it had felt being in Siegfried's company again, how easy the conversation had been. When she then thought about how it had felt being in his arms and being kissed, only to then be rejected…the initial thrill giving way to crushing disappointment…it hurt more than she would have thought and, for that, she felt unreasonable. She barely knew him after all. It wasn't as though he had cast her aside in the midst of a great love affair and yet…

In all her years there had been no-one, no-one who had made her feel the way he had in the few short meetings they had had together. No-one who had given her hope. But she knew she had been stupid to think that anything more would ever come of their acquaintance. Her father would never accept it for one thing, despite her standing up to him on the matter of going for dinner and Siegfried…well if she had ever needed confirmation as to where his heart lay, she had very much received it. He was clearly still so in love with his late wife as to be incapable of seeing anyone else before him and she had been a fool not to listen to her own misgivings when she had had them.

"You'll not be seeing 'im again then?" her father asked her the following evening.

"Who?"

"Mr Farnon."

The mention of his name brought her up short. "I don't suppose so, no."

"I only wonder, as you said you 'ad a nice evening but…"

"But what?" she turned to look at him.

"Well…you 'aven't looked as though you 'ad a nice evening, not at all."

"Let's not pretend that you really 'oped I did 'ave a nice evening," she replied. "Let's not pretend that you're not glad that I've said I probably won't see 'im again. Let's not pretend that you don't want things to stay just as they always 'ave!" Before emotion could completely overtake her, she hurried up to her room, threw herself down on the bed and cried, though she wasn't sure whether she was crying over Siegfried himself, or over the loss of the first shred of hope she had had in so long that there might be more in store for her than life as mistress of Windy Hill. When she had composed herself, she had gone back downstairs to find her father still sitting at the table awaiting his supper and the subject hadn't been mentioned again.

Four days on from the unfortunate event and she found it difficult to rouse herself from bed to begin the day. Despite the warm, bright sunshine and promise of summer, she felt as though there was little point given how she would inevitably spend her time. Even the thought of walking on the hills seemed to hold no pleasure for her anymore. In a way, she couldn't help but think that she would have been better off had she never met Siegfried at all.

As she was preparing breakfast for her father, who was already down in the fields, there was a knock at the door and, opening it, she came face to face with the pleasant face of the local postwoman.

"Morning Joan," she greeted her as brightly as she could.

"Morning Lily," the other woman said, handing over the letters. "Nice day, isn't it?"

"Yes," she agreed, "a lovely day." Once inside, she looked at the two envelopes handed to her and her heart jumped slightly as she saw one addressed to her in what looked suspiciously like Siegfried's handwriting. His previous letter remained in the drawer in her bedside table, though she didn't know why she hadn't discarded it, and she couldn't help but wonder what he would feel the need to write to her about now. Putting the kettle onto the stove to boil, she sat down at the table, taking comfort in the fact that she was alone. For a moment, she considered simply burning the letter without reading it, but curiosity not to mention good manners, got the better of her and she ripped it open.

Inside were two folded sheets of paper and she opened them carefully, almost afraid to read the words he had written.

_Dear Lily,_

_I felt I had to write to try and explain myself, as poor as I am sure any explanation will be. I seem so utterly incapable of making myself understood in the spoken word and can therefore only hope the written word carries more clarity. I want you to know that I have very much enjoyed the times that we have spent together. You have provided the most amiable of company and your taking an interest in veterinary science, and my work in general, has been most flattering. You are a woman with capabilities far beyond those which you ascribe to yourself._

_I feel, however, that I must apologise for what happened between us last weekend. Having spent such a pleasant evening with you, regardless of all other factors, it was improper of me to act towards you in the way that I did. Please rest assured that I do not make a habit of bestowing affection upon women and I apologise if any offence was caused by my actions. Further to that, I feel I owe you some further insight into why I could not act further or, indeed, more appropriately._

_Losing my wife has been the single most significant event in my life to date, far greater than anything else. It is a loss that has never left me, and I suspect never shall. I felt, and feel, an overwhelming sense of guilt that I was not with her when she became ill or indeed when she died. In that, I have accepted the blame bestowed upon me by her father for my part in what happened to her. She was the first woman that I ever loved and was the person I saw myself growing old with. Making that journey alone these last fourteen years has proved difficult and in my heart, though she is gone, I still consider myself her husband. I still love her as much as I did then and, unlike my father, find the thought of loving another almost incomprehensible._

_You stated that you considered me to be like your own father, steeped in mourning and stifling myself of the possibility of a different life, a happier life. Perhaps in that you are right. Perhaps I only hurt myself by my actions and yet I cannot think on how much more hurt could be felt than that which I have already experienced and therefore I believe that I was quite accurate when I told you that I was content with life._

_You, however Lily, still have much life ahead of you. If I could be permitted to wish one thing for you it is that you live it for yourself and find someone with whom to share all the affection that I know you have to give. I can only apologise again for misleading and hurting you._

_Yours,_

_Siegfried Farnon._

She read it twice through, the words blurring before her eyes as she started to weep. It was a kind letter and yet she couldn't help but feel the pain that seemed to jump off the pages at her, the pain of his loss and his attempts to live with it. Her father suddenly appeared at the door and, folding it neatly, she placed the letter into the pocket of her apron, resolving to read it again later once she was alone.

"You all right lass?" Tom asked, kicking off his boots.

"Yes," she turned back to the stove, wiping her eyes as she did so. "I'm fine."

**4 June**

"Right, out with it."

"Out with what?" Siegfried asked, looking up at Mrs Hall, looming over him as he sat down to his breakfast.

"Whatever it is that's bugging you."

"Nothing's _bugging_ me," he replied, irritated at her asking and focusing his attention on the food in front of him. "I'm perfectly fine."

"You 'ave been like a bear with a sore 'ead these last two weeks ever since you came back from 'aving dinner with Lily. So, come on. Out with it."

"There's nothing to get _out_."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"I don't expect you to believe anything."

"Did something 'appen between you?"

He looked at her quickly, wondering how she could have possibly known. "What do you mean? What are you suggesting?"

She looked at him for a long moment and then nodded, sitting down opposite him, "Ah."

" _Ah_?What does that mean, Mrs Hall, _ah?_ "

"Was it 'er you wrote to, when you came 'ome that night?"

He looked down at his plate. "Perhaps."

"And she 'asn't replied."

"Well I never really expected her to. My letter didn't…didn't seek a reply."

"But you'd ''ave liked one all the same."

"Mrs Hall…" he sighed. "This really is none of your business and even if it was…there is nothing for you to concern yourself about."

"So, will you be seeing 'er again?"

"I shan't think so." He glanced over at her, watching him with one raised eyebrow. "I'm not…that is to say…I don't feel the need to…to…I'm perfectly content as I am."

"Are you?"

"Yes, I am! Not every man is…is desperate to move on to another woman after a loss. Not every man is like…" he paused, knowing he had been about to reference his own father and feeling it would be inappropriate to do so.

"Even after all these years?" she asked softly.

"Mrs Hall, the subject is closed," he replied, lifting his cup as the doorbell rang. "I'd thank you to leave it be."

She sighed, shook her head and got up, making her way to the door and then returning. "This came for you," she said, holding out a package.

"What is it?"

"Well 'ow should I know? You'd do best to open it and see, wouldn't you?"

He took it from her and immediately recognised Lily's handwriting. Opening it quickly, he saw that she had returned the book and that there was a letter enclosed. For a moment, he simply stared at it. "I should…" he got to his feet. "I should prepare for morning surgery." Without waiting for her to comment, he hurriedly made his way into the surgery, closing the door firmly behind him and only then opening the envelope.

_Dear Siegfried,_

_Thank you for your letter, although there was no need for explanation on your part. You should not solely blame yourself for the events which occurred. As I said at the time, I was aware of your deep affection for your late wife and I should have had the foresight to refuse your invitation to dine with you. If I had, matters would not have progressed as they did given that, following our afternoon in the hills, I had resolved that we should remain as mere acquaintances in any event._

_I would like to thank you, however, for the time that we have spent together. I feel I have learned a great deal about things of which I had no previous knowledge. I return your book to you and thank you for allowing me to read it._

_Although I have no experience of the terrible loss that you have suffered, I want to say that you should never feel you have to apologise for loving your wife. Indeed, I would expect no less from a man such as yourself. I only hope that perhaps, one day, I might be allowed to experience some of that kind of affection for myself._

_Yours,_

_Lily Bailey._

"Oh Lily…" he sighed, reading it again. Her words were kind, forgiving and, in a way, full of self-reproach, as though she were somehow to blame for _his_ own inadequacies. He pondered whether to reply, whether to try and explain to her that she mustn't blame herself. Then he remembered what she had once said about the obligation to reply to letters and wondered if she might then feel she needed to say more, when it really wasn't necessary. "Perhaps best to leave it as it is," he said, folding the letter up and putting it into his pocket. "Least said, soonest mended."

**10 June**

"I were talking to cousin Joe the other day," Tom said suddenly one evening over supper.

"Oh yes?" Lily replied distractedly, as she poured him some coffee. "What about?"

"Well, you know 'is daughter, Emily."

"Yes…"

"And you know she don't keep too well."

"I do."

"Well…Joe were thinking that it might do 'er some good to get some sea air. Scarborough, maybe. She's always 'ad that bad chest and 'e reckons going somewhere like that might make 'er feel a bit better."

"I suppose it might," Lily said, sitting down opposite him. "Is 'e going to take 'er then?"

"Well…" Tom hesitated. "Actually, 'e were wondering if you might go with 'er?"

Lily paused and stared at him. "Me? I barely know Emily."

"I know that, and so does Joe, but 'e's not that keen to leave the farm and 'e doesn't think she would manage on 'er own. We both reckoned that another lass would be best, someone around Emily's own age."

"I'm five years older."

"Well, that's not much, is it? I reckon Joe would really appreciate it if you said yes."

"But…but where would we stay? What would we do? 'ow long are we even talking for?"

"Couple of weeks?" Tom shrugged.

"A couple of weeks?!" she exclaimed. "Dad, you practically pace the floor if I'm a few minutes late back from church and now you want me to go all the way to Scarborough for a couple of weeks? 'ow the 'eck are you going to manage on your own?"

"I'd manage fine," he replied, slightly huffily. "I'm not completely useless, you know. I could…'ave my tea at the Drovers occasionally and, well, other than that I would manage. World won't stop turning just because you're away on 'oliday."

She stared at him across the table, almost unable to comprehend what he was saying. This, from the man who barely let her out of his sight, who had made it oh so subtly clear that she belonged at Windy Hill and nowhere else and now… "What's this really about, Dad?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"You don't really want me to go all the way to Scarborough with Emily, do you? This is about something else, isn't it?"

"It's about me wanting to do something nice for me cousin…and me daughter," he replied. "If you don't want to go, just say and I'll tell Joe it's a non-starter."

"I didn't say that. I just…" she shook her head. "This isn't like you."

"Well…" he looked down at the tabletop. "You've been…I don't know…different of late."

"Different?"

"Aye, ever since you went for dinner with that vet."

"You mean S…Mr Farnon," she looked away.

"Aye, 'im. I don't know what 'appened when you were with 'im. I 'ope to God nothing I need be concerned about. But you went out that door one person and came back another and you've been like that ever since. Perhaps a…a change of scene might…do you good. Bring you back to yourself again."

She got to her feet and turned to the sink, mechanically washing the dishes that were sat there. In a way, he was right. Dinner, Siegfried's letter, her reply…in the last few weeks she knew that she had been different, melancholy, stuck in a circle of embarrassment and self-blame. Every time she thought about how eagerly she had accepted his affection and craved more, she felt stupid. Every time she thought about what he had said, she felt embarrassed. Every time she re-read his letter, though she knew it had been meant by way of explanation, she felt rejected.

"So…what do you say?"

She turned back around to face her father, his expression one of hopeful expectation. Not expectation that she might expand her horizons and become a happier person, but expectation that she return to how she was before she ever laid eyes on Siegfried Farnon. Perhaps, for her own wellbeing, that wouldn't be such a bad thing.

"I say, yes," she replied. "Tell Joe that I'll go to Scarborough."

**20 June**

"And now for our final hymn, _Oh God our Help in Ages Past._ "

Siegfried jerked slightly as Mrs Hall elbowed him in the side and, to his shame, he realised that for at least the last half hour, he had tuned out of Reverend Thwaite's service. Rising to his feet, he quickly turned his hymn book to the right page but found that he had little notion to sing. The church was warm, the sun outside beating in the window, and his thoughts had been focused on two things quite far away from anything of religious significance.

One was the fact that Tristan would be arriving on the train the following day, freshly out of school for the last time, and looking forward to, no doubt, eight weeks of complete nonsense prior to the next stage in his life which, Siegfried couldn't help but hope, would be university. According to his last phone call, Tristan had said that his exams had gone rather well and that he was expecting to achieve the desired results in August that would allow him to progress to veterinary college.

"And you're absolutely sure that's what you want to do?" Siegfried had asked him.

"Of course," Tristan had replied. "What else is there?"

"Well…" he had wanted to say that there were a million other things his brother could do if he so wished, but in the same way that he imagined his own father's pleasure at Siegfried himself going to veterinary college and, perhaps, one day joining him in practice, so too did he feel something of the same. It would be quite something for them to practice together in Darrowby. Not that the next six years wouldn't be trying for them both…

The second thing was Lily, or rather the lack of her. He had seen neither hide nor hair of her since they had dined together almost a month earlier. His hope of perhaps seeing her around the village had not come to fruition and, as he had looked around the congregation that morning prior to the service starting, had concluded that, once again, she wasn't to be found at church. Though he knew he had made his feelings quite clear to her in his letter, he often found himself thinking of her. Her eyes, her smile, the way she had felt under his hands…

"Stop it," he said, unaware that the words had come out of his mouth right as the singing had ceased. Glancing to his left, he saw Mrs Hall looking at him and he merely shook his head in response. The minister gave his final benediction and then the service was over.

"I'm just going to 'ave a word with Helen Dinsdale," Mrs Hall said, "then we'll get 'ome for lunch."

"Right you are," he replied, watching her disappear amongst their fellow worshippers. As he was wondering whether or he not he really needed to go to the Rudd farm that afternoon or whether the call could wait until the following morning, he turned suddenly and came face to face with Tom Bailey. "Ah…Mr Bailey."

"Mr Farnon," the other man greeted him sombrely.

"It's a nice day."

"Yes, it is."

"Is uh…is Lily not with you this morning?" he asked casually. "Only I didn't see her inside."

"She's not 'ere," Tom replied.

"Oh…well, that's a shame. Please…uh…pass on my best regards to her when you get home."

"She's not at 'ome neither."

"Oh?" he couldn't help his curiosity being piqued. "Is she…is she all right?"

"She's fine. Gone to Scarborough with me cousin's daughter. Bit of sea air do them both the world of good."

"Well…Scarborough will be lovely this time of year. Is it…a day trip or…?"

"Not sure 'ow long she'll be away for," Tom replied. "Few weeks perhaps."

"I see. And you're managing all right at the farm without her?"

"That's right."

"Well that's…that's encouraging to hear. I hope you enjoy the rest of your day." He made to move away, but Tom stepped in front of him, blocking his path. "Mr Bailey…"

"I don't know what you said to 'er, or what you did to 'er," Tom said. "But I'll be keeping me eye on you, Farnon, mark my words."

"I really…I really don't know what you're suggesting…"

"My lass 'asn't been 'erself since she came back from 'aving dinner with you. I only 'ope when she gets back from 'er 'oliday that she's back to normal."

"You mean, back to being your maid and cook, destined to live the rest of her life with you up at Windy Hill?" The words came out before he could stop them, and he immediately wished he could take them back, for Lily's sake.

Tom's eyes narrowed. "You don't know anything about my daughter, or me, _Mr Farnon._ I'd thank you to keep your opinions to yourself." He stepped back. "I shall be contacting Mr Trotter if I 'ave any issues with my beasts in future. Good day to you."

Siegfried opened his mouth to say something more, but the other man was gone and, when he turned back around, he saw Mrs Hall behind him.

"What were that all about?"

"Nothing," he replied hurriedly. "Nothing at all."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, quite sure." They started making their way back to Skeldale House. "Mr Bailey was saying that Lily is in Scarborough."

"Oh, 'ow nice. On 'oliday?"

"So it would appear."

"Nice part of the country, Scarborough. Especially at this time of year. She there on 'er own?"

"No, with her cousin's daughter."

"Well I 'ope she 'as a lovely time. Lord knows she deserves a break from Windy Hill."

"Yes…" he mused, "she does."

As Mrs Hall made the final preparations for lunch, he wandered into the sitting room and over to the bookcase, _The History of Veterinary Medicine_ back in its rightful place on the shelf. For a moment, he simply stared at it, seeing in his minds eye the image of her lifting it and flicking through it. She had looked so pretty that evening, so beautiful when they had gone to dinner and when he had kissed her…

"Enough!"

Mrs Hall suddenly appeared in the doorway and looked around as though expecting to find company. "Everything all right?"

"What…? Yes, yes…I'm…I'm fine," he replied. "I'm absolutely fine."

"Mr Farnon…"

"What?!"

She paused and then shook her head, "Nothing."


	11. Chapter 11

**29 August 1931**

**Ten weeks later**

"Well now," Tristan grinned broadly across the breakfast table. "I think you owe me a few drinks today, Siegfried, don't you?"

"Do I?" Siegfried asked, looking back at his younger brother in faint amusement. "Now whatever might have given you that idea?"

"Oh, come on! It's not every day I pass my final exams and start my journey into the next phase of my life with such excitement and vigour!"

"Really Tristan, you've done as I expected. Passing your exams at school is hardly cause for a major celebration. The real work starts now, you know. The next six years are going to be a testing time for you and then, only then, will we see what you're really made of."

"Well thanks a lot," Tristan grumbled. "You certainly have a way of making a man feel like he's hasn't achieved anything."

"Come on now," Mrs Hall chided gently. "Tristan's done well, Mr Farnon, you 'ave to give 'im that. Edinburgh will be lucky to 'ave you."

"Thank you, Mrs Hall," Tristan beamed again. "At least _someone_ can be pleased for me."

"I _am_ pleased for you, of course I am," Siegfried said. "It's only no less than I expected. But I suppose, given that you'll be leaving us in a week or so to head north, I could at least find it in me to buy you a pint or two."

"That's more like it!" Tristan drained his cup of tea. "I have to make sure that I say farewell to all the pretty ladies in Darrowby, though I understand that the ladies in Scotland are not to be sniffed at. I hear they're all quite beautiful."

"Tristan, really…"

"A lot of them are redheads apparently. And you know what they say about redheads."

"No, what _do_ they say about redheads?" Siegfried asked with a sigh. Tristan simply looked at him, his smile broadening with every moment that passed. "Oh, for heaven's sake, you really are incredibly juvenile, not to mention, focused on entirely the wrong thing. I fail to see how a woman's hair colour could be any indicator about her…her personality."

"I wasn't thinking about their personalities."

"Tristan!" Mrs Hall gasped. "I'd thank you to keep that kind of talk away from the breakfast table, if you don't mind."

"Sorry Mrs H. Speaking of redheads, I haven't seen the lovely Miss Bailey since I've been back in Darrowby, have you seen her at all, Siegfried?"

Siegfried froze at his brother's words. "Uh…no, no I haven't."

"I was hoping that I might run into her but, alas…" he paused. "Perhaps we'll see her out and about today at the show."

"Perhaps," Siegfried got to his feet. "I know that she spent some time in Scarborough earlier this summer."

"How exciting. I can only _imagine_ what she might have gotten up to there."

He rounded on his brother before he could stop himself. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

"Nothing. I was being facetious." Tristan peered at him. "Why, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Siegfried replied hurriedly, unwilling to give his brother any opportunity to guess that, rather than decrease with her absence from his life, his thoughts of Lily seemed to increase with every day and week that passed. "I'll be interested to see how Mr Grier gets on as attending vet, given how you've alluded so much to it being a terrible task, Mrs Hall."

"I'm sure once you've seen it in action, you'll be throwing your 'at into the ring for next year," she smiled.

"Yes, quite."

"Well, come on then," Tristan got to his feet. "I believe that the refreshment hall awaits us."

"It's ten o'clock in the morning," Siegfried said. "Don't you think it's a little early?"

"Oh, it's never too early, big brother. Unless…"

"Unless what?"

"Unless your impending entry into your fortieth year means that you can no longer handle your ale."

Siegfried knew that the remark was made immaturely, with the wit only an eighteen year old could possess and that he should roundly ignore it, but something in his younger brother's expression, not to mention his own thoughts of his impending birthday, put paid to sense. "I can handle my ale perfectly well," he replied, ignoring the look on Mrs Hall's face. "To the refreshment hall we go!"

XXXX

For the first time in as long as she could remember, Darrowby Show held no great lure for Lily. It was a bright, sunny and warm day, the perfect setting for the last show of the local season and yet, she knew she would have been quite content simply to stay at Windy Hill rather than venture into the village.

_Content._

It was a word she had grown used to over the last few weeks, a word that she could apply more readily to her life than she ever could _happy._ Her visit to Scarborough, ultimately lasting six weeks, had been very enjoyable. Emily had proven good company, despite her ailments, and the two women had enjoyed sight-seeing and simply relaxing in the warm sea air. The mistress of the boarding house where they had stayed, had seemed keen for them to mix in local circles, advising them constantly of local dances that they could attend, and whilst she had enjoyed herself for the most part, something had most definitely been missing. By the time she had returned home to Windy Hill, she had felt a certain sense of relief at the familiarity and her father had seemed pleased to have her back. Routine had followed and, after a while, it had felt as though she had never been away.

She thought of Siegfried often, wondering how he was and what he was doing. On occasion, she had been tempted to go into the village on the chance that she might see him. Once, she had considered knocking on the door of Skeldale House on a ruse to see Audrey in the hope that he might answer. But when she had considered these thoughts in the cold light of day, she had chided herself on how ridiculous they were. He had made himself clear, as had she. The feelings of foolishness at her thoughts and actions had been replaced by something more akin to regret, though when she thought of their time together, it did bring a slight smile to her face.

So there seemed little to take her into Darrowby, other than for the show itself, and wandering with no real purpose she knew might lead to a meeting that, in reality, she wasn't quite sure she was really prepared for.

"Come on lass," her father's voice broke into her thoughts as she cleared up the breakfast dishes. "Time to go."

"Time to go where?"

"To the show, where do you think?"

"Oh…no, I'm all right 'ere, Dad. You go though, enjoy yourself."

"You don't want to come?"

"Not really. I think I'll just stay 'ere. I've plenty to be getting on with. I could pick you up later if you wanted to 'ave a few drinks."

"Are you worried you might see 'im?"

"Who?"

"Mr Farnon."

The very mention of his name brought her up sharply and she paused before continuing in her tasks. "No, not at all. Why should I be worried?"

"Don't you worry, lass, 'e'll not say anything to you, I've seen to that."

Lily paused and then turned to face him. "What do you mean?"

"I saw 'im at church a few months back, when you were in Scarborough."

"And?"

"And I told 'im to stay away…in so many words."

She gaped at him, "You did _what?_ "

"I told 'im that I didn't know what 'ad 'appened between you, but that I'd be watching 'im and that I'd be taking me services elsewhere in the future."

"Dad, for heaven's sake!" she thumped the cloth she was holding down into the sink. "What on earth did you do that for?"

"I did it because you're my daughter and you 'adn't been right since you saw 'im last. I wanted 'im to know that _I_ knew that 'e were the cause of all your upset."

"I wasn't…well that's just wonderful! I can only imagine what 'e thought when you said that! For your information, Siegfried did nothing wrong!"

"Oh aye? Siegfried, is it?"

"I don't need you to fight my battles for me! Not that…not that there was any kind of battle…" she turned away again and closed her eyes, frustrated beyond words at what he had done and knowing that she was now going to have to seek Siegfried out to put him straight, if for no other reason.

"So, what _did_ 'appen then?"

Slowly, she turned back around to face her father, his expression curiously expectant. Clearly, he had been working up to asking her the question for some time. "If you must know…" she paused, considering what to censor. "We 'ad a nice meal and then 'e told me that 'e was still in love with his late wife and that 'e couldn't ever see 'imself with anyone else, not that I 'adn't already figured that out. You see, you and 'e aren't really that different."

There was a brief silence as Tom digested her words. "'e lost 'is wife?"

"Yes, just after we lost Mum and, like you, 'e's remained alone ever since." Saying the words aloud brought a sadness to her heart, even if it _was_ what Siegfried wanted for himself. Tom opened his mouth as though to respond and then closed it again. "So…" she untied her apron and laid it on the table. "I suppose we'd better go."

XXXX

The show was well attended, much as the Gala had been, though Tristan had only been placated by a quick look around before dragging him into the refreshment hall which, unsurprisingly, seemed the busiest area of all. There was no sign of Mr Grier, the attending vet, though his name had been called on several occasions through a loud hailer and several people had started muttering about some of his judgments. As such, Siegfried found himself starting to see what Mrs Hall had meant.

"I 'ear you passed your exams," Henry Dinsdale said as Tristan procured yet another pint of ale.

"That I did, Mr Dinsdale, that I did."

"You'll be off to university then."

"Edinburgh awaits me," Tristan said proudly. "But I'll be back regularly and then, one day, in practice with my brother."

"Oh aye," Henry looked sideways at Siegfried. "That'll be a grand day for Darrowby, so it will."

"See," Tristan elbowed him when they were alone again. "Everyone else believes in me. I don't see why you can't."

"I _do_ believe in you, you know I do," Siegfried sighed. "But you tend to treat everything important with a complete lack of seriousness. And you haven't exactly sailed through your schooling. Forgive me for being slightly dubious as to how you'll survive at the next level."

"Well, perhaps losing my father midway through my schooling didn't help."

Siegfried looked at him seeing, for the first time, some genuine emotion in his brother's eyes. He often forgot the trials that Tristan had gone through. Losing his mother at such a young age and then his father at a crucial time in his teenage life when he himself had had the luxury of both of them well into adulthood. There really could be no comparison. "I know," he said. "And I'm sorry for that. I'm trying to be a suitable substitute and, well, sometimes I feel that I'm failing."

"You're not failing, really you're not," Tristan said hurriedly. "I'm lucky to have you."

"And I you….I suppose."

"But I still think you need something more in your life."

"Tristan…"

"I'm serious. Miss Bailey _was_ lovely. I can't understand why you didn't pursue her."

"I did," he said hurriedly. "I mean…I invited her to the house for dinner and I took her out for dinner too."

"When?"

"A few months ago, before you came home."

"And?"

"And…and nothing. I enjoyed her company but that…that was as far as it went."

"On your side or hers?"

He paused, remembering the look on her face after he kissed her and then pulled away. The hopeful expectation reduced to crushing disappointment. Not that he considered himself worthy of such feelings, but he had seen that they were there. "It's just…just better this way, that's all."

Tristan shook his head and lifted his pint glass. "Well then, perhaps if she's fair game, _I_ should throw my hat in the ring."

He started laughing before he could stop himself, only pausing when he saw the serious look on his brother's face. "You're joking, of course."

"Why would I have to be joking? She's nice to talk to, not to mention pretty. Perhaps if one Farnon brother has rejected her, she might take a chance on the other."

"You're…you're far too young for her!" Siegfried blustered. "You can't possibly consider…" he shook his head, almost unable to get the words out. "It's ridiculous, Tristan. As if she would have any interest in a schoolboy!"

"Ah, so _you_ don't want her, but no-one else is allowed to have her either?"

"That's not what I said. I don't think that way at all, _not at all._ If…if you think that you have a chance with her then, by all means, try your luck."

"Right then," Tristan drained the last of his ale. "Maybe I will."

Before Siegfried could reply, he had slammed his glass down onto the side and headed for the door. Momentarily frozen, he made to go after him and then stopped. Far be it from him to stop his brother making a complete fool of himself and, in any event, as much as he might want to see her, he wasn't sure that a conversation with Lily was the best tonic for him at the present time. At least, not without the fortification of more ale.

XXXX

In a way, she was glad she had decided to come. The atmosphere at the show was good, despite the undercurrent of displeasure at some of Mr Grier's judging decisions. Her father had long since abandoned her, heading in the direction of the refreshment hall and so Lily found herself wandering around the stalls, greeting others cheerfully and surreptitiously keeping an eye out for any sign of Siegfried. So far, she had been left wanting and as she was rounding the rear of one of the cattle pens, she suddenly caught sight of Tristan making his way in her direction. When he saw her his face suddenly lit up.

"Lily Bailey!"

"Tristan Farnon."

"How the devil are you? I can't believe I've been back in Darrowby these months and not set eyes on you until now. Did you enjoy your sojourn to the seaside? Scarborough," he clarified on her look. "Siegfried said you had spent some time there."

"Oh, yes. It was very nice, thank you for asking. Is that you all finished at school now then?"

"Yes, finally! I'm off to university in Edinburgh in a few weeks time."

"Congratulations."

"Thank you, though I must say I'm looking forward more to the company I might keep than the work itself. You'll probably know the answer to this, being one yourself, are there many redheads there?"

She laughed at the seriousness of his question and the notion that she, of all people, might know the answer. "Well I wouldn't know. I've never been to Edinburgh. Never been to Scotland, in fact."

"Oh, then you _must_ come and visit me!" He took her hands in his and pressed them together. "Yes, that would be such a _splendid_ idea! I could show you all the sights and take you out for dinner and drinks!"

Lily found herself laughing again at his enthusiasm. "You're a nice lad, Tristan."

"I see…not quite _man_ enough for you?" he grinned and then gestured behind him. "My brother's in the refreshment hall if you're looking for him."

"Oh, well I wasn't…I mean…"

"I think seeing you might do him some good. He's had a face like a wet weekend for weeks now."

"Really?" she asked, her curiosity piqued. "I 'ope 'e's not sickening for something."

"Hmm…well…" Tristan smiled mischievously at her. "Well I must dash, but I really think you should rescue him from what is sure to be the devil of all hangovers."

Before she could say anymore, he had loped away from her at speed and she found herself quite wondering what to do next. Coming across Siegfried in passing would have been one thing, but seeking him out seemed like quite another, especially in the refreshment hall. Then it dawned on her that her father might be there and settled that the best thing to do was to make her apologies as soon as she could, lest he say anything more damaging.

The refreshment hall was bursting at the seams, but a quick look round showed no evidence of her father. Siegfried, on the other hand, was standing near the bar involved in a lively conversation with Dick Rudd. For a moment, she hesitated, unsure whether to chance joining them or just hover inconspicuously. Before she could decide, however, Siegfried turned and met her gaze, his expression dropping slightly, and she automatically felt self-conscious.

Aware that turning and fleeing would just be ridiculous, she instead put a smile on her face and ventured forwards towards him. He moved away from Dick to greet her, a half-empty tankard still in his hand. "Hello," he said, when they reached one another.

"Hello," she replied.

"How…how are you?"

"I'm well, thank you."

"I'm glad to hear it. You look well. Your father told me that you were spending some time in Scarborough over the summer."

"Yes, I got 'ome a few weeks ago."

"And did you enjoy it?"

"Yes, it was nice to get away for a bit. It's a lovely place."

"Yes, from memory it has a very nice beach."

"Yes, very nice." She hesitated slightly, almost wishing that she didn't have to address the issue and yet knowing that there was no way she couldn't. "I…uh…I understand that my father spoke to you at church some weeks ago, presumably when 'e told you I 'ad gone to Scarborough."

"Ah…yes, yes he did."

"I wanted to apologise for what 'e said to you. 'e 'ad no right to do that and, well, I only found out this morning that 'e 'ad and I gave 'im a right ear-bashing for it. 'e won't apologise for 'imself, I know that, so I suppose you'll 'ave to just take it from me."

"There's no need for an apology."

"I think there is."

"Really, there isn't. He was just acting the way any father would, I suppose, when they see that their child's been…hurt."

"I'm not a child," she said, irritated at his use of the word.

"No, no of course not, I wasn't suggesting…" he trailed off. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. I know you're not a…a child."

"Enjoying yourself then?" she gestured around, keen to divert the conversation. "First Darrowby Show, and all that."

"Yes, most enjoyable. I must say, having seen how utterly exhausted Mr Grier has looked, I now feel I understand what you and Mrs Hall were getting at about the role of the attending vet. I'm not so sure that I'm up for the task."

"Oh, I'm sure you'd manage." He held her gaze for a long moment and she felt her cheeks start to flush. "I…uh…I saw Tristan earlier."

"You did?"

"Yes, 'e told me you'd be in 'ere."

"Did he now? Did he happen to say…anything else?"

"Only that 'e's going to university in a few weeks. You must be very proud."

"Well, yes, that's one word for it."

"I don't know why 'e though I'd know, but 'e was asking me whether there were a lot of red'eads in Scotland."

"Oh Lord…" he sighed. "Please ignore his juvenile attempts at conversation. If there's one aspect of his upbringing I really _have_ failed at so far it's his interactions with women."

"I find 'im rather sweet, to be honest."

He stared at her, "You do?"

"Yes, so far as boys 'is age go." He appeared to visibly relax, and she laughed and looked around. "I suppose I'd best go and try and find me dad. 'e must be around 'ere somewhere, Lord only knows in what state. It was nice to see you, at any rate."

"Lily…" as she turned to go, he reached out and took hold of her hand and she felt her skin burn at the connection with his own. She looked down at her hand and then back up to meet his gaze again, her heart thumping loudly in her ears. "I wanted to say…that is, I wanted to thank you for your letter. I was going to reply but then I recalled what you said about certain…obligations when you receive a letter, and I didn't want _you_ to then feel obliged to respond."

"I recall _you_ saying that replying to a letter of mine would never be an obligation," she said without thinking, an immediate feeling of shame washing over her at the implication that she thought him open to rebuke. "I mean…I…"

"No, you're right, I…I did say that, and I meant it. I suppose I just assumed that, well, that you might not welcome any further correspondence."

"I suppose I took from _your_ letter that there wouldn't be any."

"Yes…" he said, looking down to where her hand was still in his. "Yes, I suppose that's quite right…"

"There you are! I've been looking for you all over! I suppose I really should 'ave started 'ere, shouldn't I? 'ello Lily, 'ow are you, love?"

"Audrey," she said, stepping back from Siegfried as he simultaneously dropped her hand. "I'm well, thank you, 'ow are you?"

"Can't complain. Even if I did, nobody would listen," Mrs Hall smiled and then turned to Siegfried. "I've 'ad Mrs Calvert on the phone. Sounds like one of 'er cows is 'aving a bit of trouble calving, and she asked if you could go up."

"Yes, yes of course. I'll…well…I…" he looked down at the half-empty glass in his hand. "Ah."

"'ow many 'ave you 'ad?" Mrs Hall asked.

"Well…" he paused, as though mentally counting. "Perhaps…too many."

"I could drive you," Lily said quickly, and without really thinking. "Our van's parked round the corner and it's 'ighly unlikely me dad'll be fit to drive it, not to mention the fact that 'e probably isn't in the mood for going 'ome yet anyway. You saw what 'e were like at the gala."

"I…couldn't ask you to do that."

"Why not?" Mrs Hall asked. "Lily's a very capable driver."

"Yes, I don't doubt that but…" he paused and looked between them. "You sure you wouldn't mind?"

"Of course not," she replied, her throat feeling suddenly dry. "I've never seen a cow give birth before." He looked at her squarely and she suddenly realised how strange that must sound living, as she did, on a cattle farm and how presumptuous, as though her offering to drive him came with certain conditions.

"Well then," Siegfried said, recovering quickly. "Never let it be said that I'm one to waste an opportunity to teach someone something. I suppose it really should be Tristan I'm teaching, but in his absence…"

"‘is loss is my gain, I suppose," she said cheerfully.

"Yes," he looked at her again. "Yes, I suppose it is."


	12. Chapter 12

"It was very kind of you to offer to drive me," Siegfried said as he and Lily made the journey up towards the Calvert farm. He had been surprised at her offer, though also secretly pleased, for reasons that weren't abundantly clear to him. "I'm sure I could have managed of course, but I'm grateful nonetheless."

"Better safe than sorry I suppose," she replied. "Can't 'ave you 'aving an accident on the way."

"No, I suppose that would be unfortunate," he agreed. "It was foolish of me to drink so much in any event. A local vet is never not on call. Things like this can arise at any time, with little warning or notice."

"Won't Mrs Calvert mind if you've been drinking? Attending to 'er cow, I mean."

"Her sole objective is ensuring a healthy calf is born. Whether I've imbibed slightly before arriving should be neither here nor there. Unless it affects my ability or my judgement, which it doesn't."

"Well I'm glad you're so confident," she replied, looking at him sideways and smiling.

"If one isn't confident in one's own ability then I suppose one shouldn't be doing the job."

"I suppose not."

"Have you really never seen a cow give birth before?"

Her smile faded slightly, "No, never."

"How extraordinary. What does your father do when his beasts are calving then? Is he assisted by other farmers?"

"Sometimes, if there's a lot of them going at the same time."

"And what if something goes wrong? Does he never call on you then?"

"No, e'd call the vet, which would be you, I suppose. Or not, as the case now may be."

He shook his head, unable to fully comprehend Tom Bailey's thinking. "It just seems pointless to have someone as eminently capable as you there and not ask you to assist."

"What makes you think I'm _eminently capable_?" she asked.

"Don't you think you are?"

"Well, never 'aving 'elped birth a calf before, I suppose I can't rightly say."

"No, I suppose not." He looked at her sideways. "We can change all that today though."

"I'm only driving you there," she glanced at him, a look of mild panic flitting across her face. "And just to see what it's like. I won't be able to, you know, 'elp."

"And why not?"

"Well…" she stuttered. "I'm 'ardly dressed for it for a start."

"You look fine."

"And what is Mrs Calvert going to say if I'm down at the cow's end with you? People round 'ere talk, you know."

"And do you care what they say?" She didn't reply. "Besides, what could she possibly say to anyone that would cause consternation? You seem to think you would be the subject of ridicule, but you'd simply be a farmer's daughter helping to birth a calf. Around here, I wouldn't have thought that to be particularly unusual." In the silence that followed, he glanced over at her again and saw her expression was fixed with worry. He couldn't help but feel desperately sorry for her and, something else, that was quietly trumpeting away in the far corner of his mind. "Lily, I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to do, but I just think that you'll derive some benefit from it. Perhaps your father might consider you worthy of doing more as a result. Isn't that what you want?"

"I suppose…"

"Well then. Ah, we're here." She pulled the van to a halt inside the Calvert yard and he jumped out, grabbing his bag in the process. Mrs Calvert appeared out of the shed, her grey wispy hair flying around her weather-beaten face. "Good afternoon Mrs Calvert."

"Mr Farnon," she replied, then looked over to where Lily was climbing down from the driver's seat. "What do we 'ave 'ere then?"

"Miss Bailey's assisting me today."

"Is she now? She don't look like she's dressed for it from where I'm standing."

He looked over to where Lily was hovering uncomfortably looking, he considered, very well in her dress, jacket and small heels. Admittedly, it wasn't the usual attire one would wear to a calving and as she met his gaze, he could feel the anxiety coming off her in waves. "Well it's not the clothes that matter, is it?"

"I suppose not," Mrs Calvert replied, clearly unconvinced. "She's in 'ere." Leading him into the shed, he saw the cow in question lying on the straw, groaning ever so slightly, her belly distended with calf. "Poor girl's been 'aving a tough time of it today."

"When did she start?" he asked, laying his bag down and taking off his jacket.

"First thing this morning."

"Right girl," he said softly, moving towards the cow. "Let's be having a look at you then." Gently, he looked into her eyes, then felt her belly carefully before moving around to her hindquarters. As he did so, a contraction rippled through her and she bellowed loudly. He watched as she widened, anticipating the progress of the calf, only for nothing to happen. "Well, she definitely needs some help. Can you fetch me a bucket of water please and some towels?" Mrs Calvert nodded and then disappeared back out into the yard. When he looked up, Lily was standing nervously by the entrance to the pen. "Come and take a look."

"I…" she paused and then stepped across the straw to join him.

"See how her belly ripples when she has a contraction?" he pointed. "The calf should progress down the birth canal round the pelvis and slide out quite easily. But, in this case, it appears that he or she is stuck."

"So, what can you do?"

"Well I can put my arm inside the birth canal and try to pull the calf round." He paused on her look. "Have you really never seen anyone do this?"

"No," she coloured slightly. "Me dad would always just tell me to go inside and…and I did…"

"Well, you're not going inside now." He got to his feet and started unbuttoning his waistcoat followed by his shirt.

Her eyes widened slightly, "What are you doing?"

"Well I'm hardly going to stick my arm up there wearing a good shirt, am I?" he replied, tossing the shirt to one side and suddenly remembering that the warm weather had meant he hadn't put on a vest that morning. He watched as her eyes flickered down to his chest and then back up, her cheeks once again reddening, and he felt a wave of…something…wash over him at her obvious embarrassment.

"What are you staring at lass?" Mrs Calvert's voice cut through the air as she reappeared with the requested items. "'aven't you ever seen a man shirtless before? Right little princess we've got 'ere."

"I…uh…" Lily paused. "You're not…not going to ask me to do the same, are you?"

"Uh…no, but you might want to take your jacket off," he replied, stepping back over to Mrs Calvert and taking the bucket from her. He quickly washed his arms and then came back around to where Lily was still hovering, now divested of her jacket. "Mrs Calvert, could you hold her head please?"

"I thought that were what your _assistant_ was for," Mrs Calvert replied acerbically.

"Well, she's here to learn and I rather think she'll learn more at this end than at that end so, if you wouldn't mind?"

"'ere to learn, eh?" The other woman sneered slightly but did as he was asked.

"Right," he said to Lily, motioning to her to crouch beside him. "Now, I don't want to hurt her, so I'll wait for the next contraction and then slide my arm up once she's good and wide. So, keep an eye on her belly and tell me when you see it ripple again."

"All right," she replied, slightly breathlessly.

"There's nothing to worry about," he said softly. "I'm not going to ask _you_ to put your arm up."

"Thank God for that…oh, there!"

"Right…" as the cow bellowed again, he slid his arm up and inside, feeling for the calf's head. For a moment, he felt nothing but the mother's spongy innards but, manoeuvring around her pelvis, he felt his fingers brush against something hard, and his heart sank slightly. "She's breech."

"What does that mean?" Lily asked.

"It means, she's coming out feet first rather than…than head first," he stretched further in. "Yes…definitely…" Pulling his arm back out, he sat back on his haunches. "It's a more difficult birth this way. Normally, it's straightforward to get a grip on the head and pull her round, but when you've got four legs to contend with, there's a greater risk of damage to one or all of them."

"But you _can_ get her out?"

He met her gaze and saw the hopeful expectation there, so like that which he had seen some months earlier in quite different circumstances. "I can try."

"What if you can't?"

"Then they'll both die," Mrs Calvert replied from her place at the cow's head. "You know enough to know that, surely?"

"I…I wasn't sure," Lily replied. "Can I do anything?"

"No, only room for one arm." Laying flat on his stomach, he inserted his arm again and stretched as far as he could, once more brushing against the hoof and trying to grab a hold of it. The cow bellowed again, and he could feel the contraction against his arm, pushing the calf slightly further towards him, but not by much.

"Can you feel it?" he heard Lily ask.

"Yes…it's just a case of…getting a firm grip…" he stretched again, gritting his teeth as he managed to encircle one small ankle and gently pull. "All right…I've got it…" slowly he began to retract his arm, just as another contraction rippled through the cow. "That's it…that's it…" As the calf came further down the canal, the friction became easier and, eventually, two small hooves followed by two spindly legs appeared from the cow's hindquarters. "We'll just give her a minute and then pull her the rest of the way out," he said, sitting back and gasping for breath.

"Are you all right?" Lily asked.

"Course 'e's all right," Mrs Calvert replied. "You think 'e's not used to this or something?"

"I'm fine," he turned to look at her. "Do you want to finish the job?"

"Me?"

"'er?! She's not a vet!"

"Well?" he pressed, ignoring the older woman. "You might as well have the full experience seeing as you're here." Though her expression was laced with apprehension, Lily nodded. "Splendid. Now, at the next contraction, I want you to take hold of the legs and apply gentle pressure to pull her the rest of the way out."

"What if I do something wrong?" she asked, her voice low.

"You won't. Besides. I'm right here," he met her gaze. "All right?" She nodded. "Right. So, take hold of the legs, that's it, and then when you feel the contraction, pull."

"Ok…" she took hold of the legs and waited. He watched her watching the cow's belly and couldn't help but think that, despite her somewhat formal appearance, she seemed right at home there in the shed. "Ok, I see it…"

"All right now pull…gently…that's it…" She moved slowly backwards as the legs became longer and finally gave way to the remains of the calf as it slid out from its mother and into the straw beneath her. "There she is. A fine looking girl, Mrs Calvert."

"Thank goodness for that," the older woman replied.

"Now, we need to just make sure that she's breathing all right," he said, lifting some straw and gently poking it into the calf's nostrils. After a moment, she snorted and shook her head. "There we go." Looking over at Lily, he saw her watching the calf with a look akin to wonderment. " _You_ did that."

"I did not. _You_ did."

"We both did. I'd say I couldn't have done it without you but that might be overstating it slightly." She burst out laughing and he couldn't help but think how utterly beautiful she looked, dressed the way she was, crouched in a cow shed.

"Well I 'ope you aren't expecting me to pay the both of you," Mrs Calvert broke in. "I only asked for one vet, not one and an 'alf."

"Uh, no Mrs Calvert, don't worry," he replied. "The fee will not be affected. Two for the price of one. Consider yourself having gotten a bargain."

XXXX

"It was amazing to see," Lily said for the hundredth time as they drove back down towards the village. "I 'ad no idea, really I didn't. I suppose I'm ashamed to say that I didn't."

"Why should you be ashamed?" Siegfried asked. "It's hardly your fault."

"Perhaps I should have been more insistent. Told me dad that I was going to 'elp 'im whether 'e wanted me to or not."

"Well, next time, you _can_ say that and feel that you have some knowledge of the process."

"Thank you," she looked over at him. "For showing me."

"It was my pleasure. Besides, Mrs Calvert's a battle axe at the best of times. Safety in numbers, that's what I say." Up ahead, he could see a car towing a horsebox and she slowed the van as they came up behind it. "Do you know whose horsebox that is?"

"No idea," she replied. "Whoever it is certainly isn't as careful as you are. 'e's driving like 'e's three sheets to the wind."

He watched as the horsebox swayed across the road in front of them, picking up speed as it did so. "Bloody fool. Probably had too much to drink at the show and thought he would just drive himself home. Liable to cause an injury!"

"Some people don't seem to care about putting themselves at risk like that."

"I'm not talking about him, I'm talking about the poor horse. It can't exactly tell its owner not to get behind the wheel."

"Maybe I should pass 'im."

"No, don't. Just stay back. It looks like he's turning to go over the bridge."

"Must be one of Lord Hulton's ‘orses. 'is is the only stables up that way. Oh my Lord," she gasped, "'e's going too fast!"

They watched in horror as the car swung around the bend to go up and over the bridge, the horsebox swinging wildly out behind it and striking the stone wall. With a horrifying crunching sound, the tow bar buckled, and the horsebox crashed up and over the top of the low wall, teetered for a moment, and then slid down into the water below.

Siegfried had the door open before Lily had brought the van to a complete stop and he ran over to the wall, looking down at the horsebox slowing sinking into the water below. "Check the driver!" he shouted to her as he made his way around to the side of the embankment. Without waiting for her to reply, he threw his jacket onto the ground and slid down into the water below which was cold enough to cause him to gasp. The horsebox was lying on its side and, from within, he could hear the frantic neighing of its terrified occupant, its hooves striking the metal over and over.

Unsure as to how badly injured the animal might be, he knew that he needed to get it out as quickly as possible and he waded around to the far side where the door was located. The mechanism was stiff, and it took several attempts before it gave way, the door moving down and opening merely a crack.

"Is 'e all right?" Lily's voice at his side made him jump and, turning, he saw that she had joined him, almost shoulder deep in the water. "The driver's 'alf cut but 'e doesn't seem to be 'urt."

"You should wait at the van. You'll catch your death!"

"But I could 'elp you. You can't get 'im out all by yourself, can you?"

"I can't get _in_ for a start," he said, as the horse thundered against the side of the box. "I doubt I can get the door wide enough…" as he spoke, he felt the box start to move. "The current's going to carry it downstream."

"Well 'ow can we stop it?"

"We need to try and propel it over towards the bank," he said, moving around to the far side and attempting to push. Seconds later, she joined him, adding her own weight to the task. But the box was too heavy, and it continued to push back against them, taking them further into the middle of the river where the water was deeper and he could no longer touch the riverbed. "It's no use! We have to try and get this door open!" Taking hold of the handle again, he pulled hard and, with a groan, it opened slightly further. Peering inside, he could see the horse lying on its side, the rope from the headcollar wrapped around its neck, its legs thrashing. "We need to untie him. Otherwise he might choke himself."

"I can go in," Lily said suddenly, paddling beside him.

"No," he replied. "No, he could kick you to death."

"Well 'e could kick _you_ to death too and then where would we be? I'm small enough to be able to get inside. Please…" she met his gaze. "I can do it."

He paused, weighing up the options and realising that she was right. If she could at least get inside and loosen the headcollar, then with her on the other side, he might be able to lever the door open far enough to allow the horse to escape. "All right but be careful. Watch his legs." Gingerly, she made her way to the opening and, with his assistance, climbed onto the roof of the box before starting to lower herself slowly down inside. "Find something to hold onto," he instructed as she disappeared inside and he could hear her murmuring softly to the horse, who continued to thrash. "Are you all right? Lily?”

"I'm all right," she shouted back. "I'm just going to try and untie 'im." As she spoke, the box suddenly lurched to one side and water started to pour in through the open door. The horse neighed loudly and kicked out. "Siegfried!"

"Can you get him untied?!"

"I don't know…the knot's too tight, I…I could take off the collar but then we won't 'ave anything to 'old 'im with!"

"Do it!" he shouted, wishing he had had the foresight to lift his bag but knowing there was no time now to retrieve it or the tools within. The box started to move again, the weight of the water already inside causing it to lean once more into the river. "Hurry up!"

"I'm trying…there! Ok, 'e's free!"

"Now I need you push against the door from inside!" His words were drowned by the incessant thrashing of the now freed animal. "Lily, did you hear me?!"

"Yes!"

"All right, now push!" He grabbed hold of the top of the door and tried to wrench it downwards with all his strength. It moved a little then groaned and stopped, more water rushing in with each passing moment. "Keep pushing!" With a sudden squeal of protest, the door suddenly slid down, causing him to fall backwards. The horse thrashed wildly as it fought to get to its feet, and as he righted himself, he could see Lily cowering in the far corner from its hooves. "Lily!" The horse rolled over, got to its feet and thundered out into the water. The box lurched again, swingingly wildly around and away from him, the current starting to carry it. "Lily!" He found himself pulled after it and as it hurtled to the other side of the bank, it flipped around once more, and he saw her desperately scramble for the door. With a sharp cry, she fell out and into the water as the box slammed once more into the embankment and he flailed towards her. "Here! Take my hand!" She stretched out towards him and his fingers brushed hers momentarily before she was pushed away again. "Come on!"

"I…I can't reach!"

He tried to get closer to her again, desperately reaching out for any part of her to grab onto. "Come on!" This time, he felt her fingers and then her wrist under his hand and, with as much strength as he could muster against the current, he pulled her over towards the embankment, pushing her up and out of the water before pulling himself up beside her.

"Oh my Lord…" she gasped, collapsing down onto her back. "Oh my Lord, we could 'ave drowned…"

"Yes…yes we could have," he agreed, adopting the same position. "But we didn't, and we saved the horse."

"Where…where is the 'orse?"

"He'll be around here somewhere. He didn't look to be injured, more frightened than anything else." He turned his head to look at her. "You were...quite wonderful."

"Oh, I don't know about that…"

"I do. The way you jumped into that box and untied him…he would likely have drowned if it hadn't been for you."

She turned her head and met his gaze, "Well I'd like to say I couldn't 'ave done it without you but that might be overstating it slightly."

He laughed and sat up. Back upstream, where the accident had taken place, he could see other cars now dotted around and a group of people attempting to coax the animal out of the river. There were raised voices, but the distance meant that he couldn't hear what was being said. "I should go and check him over, make sure he's all right," he said, duty to the animal coming to the forefront of his mind as always. Getting to his feet, he held out his hand to help her up and, in doing so, inadvertently pulled her against him, to the point where they both almost slipped back down into the water.

"Steady on," she joked. "I just got out the water and I've no real inclination to get back in."

"No, me neither." Looking at her, at her hair and clothes wet and muddy from the river, he felt the blood suddenly rush to his head and all the different feelings he had been experiencing since she had approached him in the refreshment hall collect in his chest.

"Bloody 'ell, it's cold…" She started to shiver in front of him and, instinctively, he slid his arms around her, pulling her against him and rubbing her gently but firmly.

"The water was freezing. We should get some blankets, try to raise our body temperatures before shock sets in." She said nothing, merely stood and allowed him to touch her and when he pulled back to meet her gaze, he felt his breath catch in his throat for a reason completely separate to the effect of the cold water. "Lily…"

"Don't, Siegfried, please."

"I've…thought about you so often these last few months…and I…"

"I've thought about you too," she sighed softly. "But please don't. It's not fair. You can't give me anything."

"Can't I?" he said quickly and without thinking. "Why can't I?"

"Because…" she shook her head. "Because of everything you said, in person and in your letter. Because of how much you still love your wife. Because the thought of…loving…anyone else is incomprehensible to you."

"I…" he hesitated, wanting to argue with her and yet well aware that what she was saying was true. He _had_ said that, _had_ thought that, _had_ felt that. There could be no-one for him but Evelyn, no-one and, without her, that meant being alone. Forever. Until the end of his life. But he couldn't help wonder sometimes what it would be like to have someone else, to care about someone else…to love someone else, someone…someone like her… "Lily, I…"

"Are you pair all right there?!" A voice boomed out and, turning, he saw a man hurrying towards them. "Were you in the river? You'll catch your death! Come on, we should get you warmed up, especially the lady. I’ve got a blanket ‘ere."

"We…" he turned back to Lily, only for her to avert her gaze, move past him and allow the man to throw the blanket over her shoulders before allowing him to guide her back towards the bridge. "Well done Farnon," he said to himself as he made to follow her. "You've really managed to screw this up good and proper."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I envisioned the bridge and river in this chapter being like the narrow one in the series where James kept having to reverse to let others past. For my own purposes though, I envisioned the river to be wider and deeper.


	13. Chapter 13

"What the bloody 'ell did you think you were doing?! You could 'ave been bloody killed!"

Lily closed her eyes as her father paced around the kitchen and wrapped her hands around the mug of hot tea she had made for herself when she had returned home. A local farmer had kindly given her a lift and then agreed to collect her father who, upon returning home and hearing what had happened, had begun raging at her from the moment he stepped through the door. She knew that his reaction was only borne out of fear and concern, not to mention the consumption of a vast quantity of ale, but ten minutes on and it was starting to become irritating.

"I told you, I was trying to rescue an 'orse!"

"A bloody 'orse!" he shook his head. " _A bloody 'orse!_ Do you think for one bloody minute that Lord Hulton would 'ave given two 'oots if you'd be killed rescuing 'is bloody 'orse? No, 'e wouldn't! Of all the bloody stupid…"

"You've made your point, Dad, all right?!"

"No, it's not bloody _all right!_ I 'ave never 'eard of anything so fool'ardy in my life as a woman throwing 'erself into a river for an 'orse! I bet 'e 'ad something to do with this, didn't 'e?"

"Who?"

"Bloody Farnon, that's who! You would never 'ave done something so stupid 'ad 'e not encouraged you!"

"'e didn't encourage me! If anything, 'e told me to get back out of the water! 'e was the one who jumped straight in without a thought for 'imself!"

"So why did _you_ 'ave to follow 'im? And what the bloody 'ell were you doing out that way with 'im anyway?!"

Lily sighed heavily, somewhat amazed it had taken so long to get around to Siegfried's involvement in the whole matter. "I gave 'im a lift up to the Calvert farm. Mrs Calvert 'ad a cow 'aving an 'ard time birthing a calf."

"You gave 'im a lift?"

"Yes, 'e'd 'ad a drink at the show and it seemed safer that I drive 'im there than 'e drive 'imself."

"Did it now."

"Yes, it did!" She glared at him. "And, for your information, I 'elped 'im birth the calf!"

Tom stared at her. " _You_ 'elped Farnon birth a calf?"

"Yes!"

"You don't know 'ow."

"Well I do now!" Getting to her feet, she poured herself some more tea, shivering as she did so, despite the dry clothes and heat from the stove. "I'll be able to 'elp you in future if any of our beasts get into trouble, now I've seen 'ow it's done. You can call on me rather than Mr Dinsdale or the like."

"Now you listen to me, my girl. Your place is not in some cold, mucky cow shed, you 'ear? Your place is in 'ere, in the 'ome, keeping it nice, cooking our meals…!"

"Skivving after you, you mean!"

_"Don't you speak to me in that manner!"_ he yelled, coming up close to her. _"I'm your father!"_

"That's right! You're me father, not me bloody gaoler!" The words had barely left her mouth when he backhanded her across the face, sending her stumbling into the table and the mug of tea in her hand crashing to the floor.

For a moment, there was nothing but stunned silence.

Lily felt herself start to shake, not from the cold this time, but from the shock of what had taken place. He had never raised his hand to her before, not once, even in the depths of despair and the grip of the demon drink, not even in the horrible days after her mother had died. She put her hand to her cheek, still stinging from the blow, and slowly turned to look at him. He looked stunned, as though confused by his own actions, and before she could say anything, turned and left the kitchen, slamming the door as he went. Mechanically, she retrieved the cup from the floor and wiped up the remnants of liquid that lay there, her hands shaking the entire time. She hadn't had the chance to start making proper preparations for that evening's meal and found, for once, that she had no great inclination to do so. Preparing a third mug of tea, she left the kitchen and climbed the stairs to her bedroom, biting her lip against the tears that were threatening to come.

It was only then, away from her father's rebuke, that she allowed herself to think about Siegfried. She wasn't sure what had happened to him after everything was over and done with and could only assume that he had, somehow, found a way back to the village. She could still picture the way he had looked at her, could still hear his voice telling her that he had been thinking about her and yet…it almost seemed as though he had been trying to convince himself that that was what he should say, that that was how he should feel. She couldn't help but think that, lovely as his affection might be, she would only want it if it was given freely, not out of some sense of doing what he thought was right. And she had been right in what she had said. He couldn't give her anything.

But when he had taken her in his arms and rubbed her body against the cold…she closed her eyes, smarting with tears that she wasn't sure whether to attribute to him or to her father.

An hour or so later, there was a knock at the door and Tom appeared, looking shame-faced and sober. "Wondered where you'd got to," he said.

"Where else would I be?"

He looked down at the floor and shuffled his feet. "I found a bit of cheese and 'am and…well…I've made us some supper, if you're 'ungry."

Her surprise at his revelation that he had even attempted to make some kind of a meal, was surpassed only by the grumble in her stomach indicating that it was far past the usual time for dinner. As she looked at him, so many thoughts ran around inside her head. She wanted to retort that he had never made a meal in his life before so why was he doing it now? She wanted to ask him why he had hit her. She wanted to tell him that, as a result, she was leaving and never coming back. She wanted to hear him say that he was sorry.

"I'll be right down," was what she chose to say, and he nodded and turned away, closing the door over as he did so. Having washed her face in the basin and brushed her hair, she made her way back downstairs to the kitchen to find that he had laid the table and put together something that resembled some sort of salad.

"It won't be as good as anything you could make but…well…" he gestured to the table.

"It looks fine, Dad, thank you."

"I'm…eh…sorry I 'it you," he said uncomfortably as they took their seats. "Won't 'appen again."

She felt her throat thicken slightly with emotion. "Good."

"Right then," he said, seeming somewhat cheerier for having gotten the apology off his chest. "Nowt to be said about it again then."

"No," she agreed. "Nowt to be said."

XXXX

"You are a brave man, Siegfried Farnon. A stupid one, but a brave one all the same."

Siegfried looked up as Mrs Hall put his plate down in front of him and frowned. "Brave and stupid? I fail to see how…"

"You could 'ave been killed, jumping into the water like that! What if you'd been swept away downriver? They might never 'ave found you."

"Well, thankfully, I wasn't."

"My brother, the hero of Darrowby," Tristan grinned. "I shall be dining out on this story for some time to come. As should you, big brother."

"I hardly think the tale is worthy of repetition," Siegfried replied.

"Of course it is!" Mrs Hall exclaimed. "It's not every day the local vet jumps into the river to save one of Lord Hulton's horses."

"Not every day he's accompanied by a local farmer's daughter either," Tristan winked.

"I never would 'ave thought it of Lily," Mrs Hall mused. "If _you're_ brave and stupid, I don't know what it makes 'er."

"Surely by your logic we should _both_ be considered brave and stupid."

" _I_ would say she must be infatuated," Tristan remarked. "What woman indeed would throw herself into a freezing river if not because of her ardent desire for the man who has thrown himself in first?"

"Oh, Tristan, do behave!" Siegfried blustered. "I'm very grateful to Lily for what she did but I fail to see how her actions were borne out of anything different to my own, namely, concern for a helpless animal." To his relief, when he had looked the horse over, there had been no damage other than a few cuts and bruises and he had been grateful for a lift back to the village, once he had established that Lily had been otherwise attended to. "Perhaps helping birth Mrs Calvert's calf gave her a new sense of self-confidence."

"If you say so."

"Was she all right?" Mrs Hall asked.

"She seemed fine. Cold and wet like myself, but not injured, if that's what you mean." He focused on his plate, thinking back to the look on Lily's face when he had tried, once again, to explain his feelings. It never ceased to amaze him how inept he was when faced with her, and had it not seemed like a ridiculous idea, he might have considered sending her another letter.

"I'm stunned you let her help you birth a calf," Tristan remarked.

"And why is that?"

"Well, don't you always say that if you want something done right, you do it yourself?"

"It was a _teaching_ context," Siegfried sighed. "Besides, I was there the entire time and I could have stepped in if there were any difficulties. Not to mention the fact that I simply asked her to pull the calf out when it was already halfway there, not perform surgery on the mother."

"Perhaps you could recruit her as your assistant then, if it was all done in a _teaching_ context and not as a pretext to spend time with her."

"And what would be so amusing about that?" he asked, choosing to ignore the latter part of Tristan's remark. "She's eminently capable."

"She's not a vet," his brother stated the obvious. "She's not qualified."

"No, and neither are you…yet. Perhaps qualifications are overrated in this field."

Tristan stared at him, "Then why am _I_ bothering to go to university?"

"Because you are. And because I promised Father that I would make sure that you completed your education. This was what he wanted. What we all want." He looked at his younger brother. "I'm sure you'll learn many things at university and not solely in connection with the treatment of animals." Tristan stared back at him and he could tell his younger brother knew what he was getting at. Good manners, discipline, hard work…all the things that seemed to be lacking so far.

"Well then, I'm sure we shall make a happy threesome," Tristan said.

"In what sense?"

"You, me and Lily. A happy threesome in veterinary practice."

"Oh Tristan, stop talking such nonsense and eat your dinner," Mrs Hall flapped. "Then your brother is going to sit down and rest. 'e's 'ad an 'ard and eventful day and there's still no guarantee 'e won't come down with pneumonia after all that time in the river."

"Yes," Tristan lamented, shooting his brother a look. "And wouldn't that be a shame."

**31 August**

Two days after the incident and Tom had never mentioned it again, true to his word. Every so often, Lily would steal a look at him throughout the day and remember the sensation of his hand across her face. She had never seen any evidence of it, but she couldn't help but wonder if he had ever struck her mother. It seemed unlikely, given how much he had loved her, but then she had been barely a teenager when her mother had died and there were, no doubt, so many things that her parents had hidden from her in those early years. Men hit women, it was a fact and something that no doubt occurred in more homes than she cared to think about, but she had never envisaged herself being one of those women. She wondered if Siegfried had ever hit his wife and then chastised herself for such foolish thoughts. He didn't seem the type and yet, did any man ever?

She knew there was little point in dwelling on it but, when she did, she found herself considering whether there would be more likelihood of repetition if she continued to stand up to her father and his plans for her. He had never struck her before, but then she had never spoken back to him in such a manner before, had never gone against what he thought she should do or how she should be, had never had a man show any interest in her…

She was pondering that final point when she heard the sound of a vehicle coming into the yard. She froze, momentarily wondering if it would perhaps be Siegfried and, if it was, what she would say to him. But when she looked out of the window, she saw a car that she didn't recognise and, opening the kitchen door, came face to face with a gentleman dressed smartly in a chauffeur's outfit. When he saw her, he smiled and touched his hat in greeting.

"Might you be Miss Lily Bailey?"

"Yes," she replied. "You are…?"

"Collins." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a white envelope which he handed to her. "Courtesy of Lord and Lady Hulton." Without waiting for a response, he touched his cap again and then turned to get back into the car.

Glancing down at the envelope in her hand, she saw her name and address embossed in neat calligraphy and, when she opened it, she found a stiff invitation card inside.

_Lord Edward and Lady Margaret Hulton request the pleasure of_

_Miss Lily Bailey_

_To dine with them at Hulton Hall on Saturday 5 September 1931_

_Dress – Formal_

_RSVP Darrowby 347_

For a moment, she was convinced there was some sort of mistake and she opened her mouth to question it, but the car had already turned and was making its way out of the yard. As she stared once more at the words in front of her, she sensed someone coming up behind her and, turning, saw her father peering curiously over her shoulder.

"Lord and Lady Hulton?" he said. "Inviting _you_ to dinner? Well…wonders will never cease."

His tone made her bristle slightly, but she elected not to start an argument about it. "It's very kind of them to invite me."

"Thanks, no doubt, for what you did for their 'orse."

"No doubt."

Tom paused. "Are you going to go?"

"I don't see why not," she replied. "I'm not likely to be invited there for any other reason any other time, am I?"

"No…'e's…eh…got a son, 'asn't 'e? Lord Hulton."

"Yes, Hugh. 'e's a bit younger than me, mind."

"Well…if you _are_ intending to run off and leave me, I'd rather you ran to Hulton Hall than Skeldale House."

His words brought her up sharply and she turned slowly to look at him. His expression was neutral, and she fought down the urge to issue a smart retort on Siegfried's behalf. Instead, she told him what she knew he wanted to hear, even if it perhaps wasn't quite the truth. "I'm not planning on running anywhere, Dad, as well you know." She looked back down at the card and her mind started to whirr over what she could possibly wear that would satisfy the request for 'formal' dress. Anything she might have felt appropriate enough to dine with Siegfried paled into insignificance when she considered dining at Hulton Hall.

"Your mother 'ad some nice dresses," he said, as though reading her mind. "Back from when we were courting. Not sure if any of them count as 'formal' but you could 'ave a look nonetheless."

She met his gaze and saw a look in his eyes that she couldn't quite identify. Wistfulness, pain, regret…? "Thank you," she replied softly. "I thought I might take a look."

"I'm sure you'll look very well, our lass," he said, his voice thick with emotion as he turned back towards the shed. "Very well indeed."

XXXX

"Well, isn't this quite the honour," Tristan commented, looking at the invitation delivered a few moments earlier to Skeldale House. "Supping with the elite, oh I say!"

"Don't be so juvenile," Siegfried replied, snatching the card from him and glancing at it again. He had been quite taken aback when Mrs Hall had returned from answering the door and presented him with him, telling him that it had been delivered by a man she had recognised as Lord Hulton's driver. Though he had perhaps expected _some_ acknowledgement for what had happened the previous weekend, he certainly hadn't been expecting a dinner invitation.

_Lord Edward and Lady Margaret Hulton request the pleasure of_

_Mr Siegfried Farnon_

_To dine with them at Hulton Hall on Saturday 5 September 1931_

_Dress – Formal_

_RSVP Darrowby 347_

"I think it's a very kind gesture," Mrs Hall remarked. "And no less than I would expect from a man like 'is Lordship."

"Know him well, do you?" Tristan quipped. "Mrs Hall regularly dines in the upper echelons of society, Siegfried. I _knew_ we'd landed on our feet when we employed her.

"Give over," she swatted at him playfully. "Think what you like, but 'is Lordship 'as a very good reputation around 'ere. 'e's a kind man, as 'is 'is wife."

"She's a kind man too, is she?"

"Tristan…" Siegfried sighed as his brother's insatiable need to make a joke out of every turn of phrase. "You think I should accept then?"

"Of course you have to accept! To refuse would be too petulant. Besides, I'm sure you're _dying_ to see Miss Bailey in formal attire."

"Miss Bailey?"

"Well yes of course. Surely she will have been invited too, given the part she played in the _daring rescue_?"

Siegfried paused, thinking on his brother's words and inwardly chastising himself for not having considered that Lily might also have been the recipient of such an invitation. He certainly hadn't saved the horse alone and when he thought back on it, he couldn't help recall holding her, trying to keep her warm once they were on dry land again...

"Dining at Hulton Hall might also prove a business opportunity for you, big brother," Tristan broke into his thoughts again. "I'm given to understand that his stables are one of the best and most lucrative in the area. Perhaps his Lordship might be looking for a new vet to care for his horses."

That possibility alone was enough to drive Lily momentarily from Siegfried's mind. "Yes," he said, "he just might…"

"Well don't you go up there expecting 'im to offer you something like that," Mrs Hall warned. "'e's invited you to dinner to say thank you, that's all."

"Mrs Hall, I'm not _entirely_ without manners, despite the impression my brother might give about our family, but I make no secret of the fact that horses have always been my passion."

"I can attest to that," Tristan remarked. "I'm sure if you could find somewhere where you _only_ ever had to administer to horses, Siegfried, you'd be the happiest man I know."

"Yes…quite…" he found his mind wandering back to those months, terrible months, at Ypres, where he witnessed the sacrifices made by both men and steeds. At night, he recalled lying in his sleeping bag, thinking of home and how seeing Evelyn again would hopefully take away all of the horrors witnessed. Little had he known that his own horror had awaited him.

"Are you listening to me?" Tristan's voice brought him up sharply again.

"What? Yes, yes of course I am. But I doubt I'd have any practice at all if I only treated horses. Farm animals, of all shapes and sizes, are our bread and butter. You'd do well to remember that."

"Oh, how I long for a future where my every waking moment is spent with my arm up a cow's behind."

"Funnily enough," Siegfried replied, fixing his brother with a knowing look, "So do I."


	14. Chapter 14

**5 September 1931**

Siegfried stood in front of the mirror looking at his reflection and couldn't help but think, in his own opinion, that he looked fairly well presented. The invitation to Hulton Hall had said that the dress code was 'formal' and Mrs Hall had agreed with him that that fell short of white tie and therefore the order of the day was for his best suit and black bowtie. He had discovered, late in the day, that his dinner jacket had a rip in the sleeve and though he had wracked his brains, he couldn't recall how it could have come about. Thankfully, his trusted housekeeper had stepped into the breach and it had soon been mended.

"Don't you look smart," Tristan quipped, coming up behind him and studying his reflection. "Even for a man progressing in years."

"I'm turning forty next week, Tristan, not a hundred," he replied calmly, pulling down his cuffs. "Not that I don't sometimes feel it."

"You work too hard."

"Well I seem to be the only one who does. Present company excluded of course, Mrs Hall."

"I should think so too," she replied, brushing fluff from his shoulders, "If I _didn't_ work 'ard, you'd be going to this dinner with a big rip in your sleeve."

"What an affront that would have been," Tristan smirked. "His Lordship wouldn't have been very impressed."

"Probably not. It's lucky we have Mrs Hall on hand for such tasks." Siegfried turned to face his brother. "And what are _your_ plans for this evening?"

"Regrettably nothing. I _do_ think, when you accepted the invitation, that you should have asked if I could come too."

"Why on earth would I have done that?"

"So that Miss Bailey would at least have the attentions of _one_ man."

He felt his body react at the thought of her but did his best to hide it and attempted to adopt a weary expression. "You do realise that the endless mention of her name is quite tiresome?"

"I don't think it is, not for you anyway. Every time I _do_ mention her name, you get this…look about you."

Siegfried laughed and adjusted his bowtie in the mirror. "What _look_?"

"The look of a man who's trying to pretend he's not affected by the mere mention of a lady's name."

"I haven't the foggiest idea what you're talking about."

" _I'm_ going away at the end of next week…"

"Not before time neither…."

"…and I want to leave here thinking that I've at least done some good."

"In what sense, exactly?"

"In bringing you and the lovely Lily together!"

Siegfried turned to face his brother again. "I do wish you would stop going on about it, about her. We've already had this conversation."

"No, we had _a_ conversation, many months ago, during which you tore my head off at the mere _suggestion_ that you could ever be romantically interested in anyone ever again."

"What is your point?"

"My _point_ , dear brother, is that I've noticed a change in you of late. One which suggests that you may be more open to the idea of a second crack of the whip than you were before. And who better to consider than a woman who's willing to help you birth cattle and jump into freezing rivers to save horses?"

"Do you have something to gain out of this?"

"Out of what?"

"This…desperate attempt to push me towards Lily Bailey as though I were somehow drowning at sea and she were the life raft?"

"Well, yes."

"What, exactly?"

"Your happiness, which can only in turn lead to my own."

"And you believe that happiness can only be found in making Lily Bailey my wife?" Once uttered, he wished he could take the word back, but it was too late, and he inwardly winced as a slow smile spread across Tristan's face.

" _I_ never said anything about making her your _wife_ , but clearly that thought is in your head."

"You're going to be late," Mrs Hall said, breaking into the conversation, much to Siegfried's relief." You don't want to keep 'is Lordship waiting now, do you?"

"No, indeed I don't." He took a final glance at himself in the mirror. "Please do try and behave yourself this evening, Tristan."

"I'm going to be sat here with Mrs H. What on earth do you think I could possibly get up to?"

"I have no idea," he sighed, opening the front door. "But nothing would surprise me."

XXXX

Lily glanced at the clock on the wall as she hovered at the kitchen table waiting for the car to arrive. When she had telephoned Hulton Hall to accept the invitation to dinner, she had been advised that one of Lord Hulton's drivers would collect her and return her home again at the end of the evening. She had tried to protest, saying that it wasn't necessary, but it had been insisted upon and she had felt as though she couldn't refuse.

As she waited, she tugged slightly at her dress and mentally reminded herself not to do it when she was in company. Having gone through her mother's things, she had found a simple. yet elegant. deep emerald coloured garment amongst the others and, gratifyingly, it fitted. Almost. She had to admit that it was slightly tight around the stomach, but it was the closest thing she could find that would fit the 'formal' attire brief and, even if she did say so herself, it made her look nice. She had curled her hair and pinned half of it up in an attempt to look more stylish than she might otherwise have and she had kept her makeup as soft as she could, lest anyone accuse her of…well…anything.

"You look…lovely," her father had said when she had arrived downstairs, fully dressed for the evening. "You look like your mother." His eyes had been misty, and he had starting coughing as though to cover his emotion before pouring himself some whisky. From the sitting room, she could hear the wireless and knew that he would be three or four glasses deep.

Suddenly, there came the sound of a vehicle and the same car that had appeared a few days earlier with the invitation, drew up at the door. As she lifted her bag and made her way outside, she felt butterflies start in her stomach and she wasn't sure if it was because of the occasion itself or because she would be seeing Siegfried again.

"Good evening ma'am," Collins said, opening the door for her.

"Good evening," she replied, unsure what else she could or should say. As the car turned in the yard, she suddenly caught sight of her father at the window and raised her hand briefly before they swept down the hill towards their destination. "It's a lovely evening," she said after a few moments, the silence in the car unnerving her.

"Yes ma'am, it is."

Stuck for further conversation, she sat back and simply allowed the landscape to pass until they turned into the gates of Hulton Hall and started making their way up the long sweeping drive. When the car had come to a halt, Collins got out and opened the door for her and she was greeted by another uniformed gentleman who came down the steps towards her.

"Good evening Miss Bailey."

"Good evening," she said again. He bowed slightly at her and then turned back the way he had come. Assuming she was to follow, she climbed the steps and found herself in a grand hallway. The floor was heavily carpeted, the walls adorned with paintings of ancestors no doubt long dead and, above her head, there was a large chandelier, the size of which was quite distracting.

"If you would follow me please," the man said, and she looked over to see him waiting for her at a set of large doors. As she made her way over to join him, he pulled the doors back and stepped into the room. "Presenting Miss Lily Bailey!"

Lily felt her face crimson at the announcement, made solely, as she then saw, to the four other people in the room. It seemed rather formal for such a small gathering but before she could say or do anything else, a woman she recognised as Lady Hulton hurried forwards to greet her.

"Thank you, Banks. Miss Bailey, how lovely to have you with us," she said, stretching out to kiss her on both cheeks. "It's so good of you to come."

"It's very good of you to invite me, your Ladyship."

"Oh please…call me Margaret."

"I…I couldn't possibly…"

"Yes, yes of course you could, and may I call you Lily?" Without waiting for an answer, Margaret took her arm and propelled her over towards the window where the others were assembled. "You know my husband, Edward, I'm sure and my son, Hugh."

"Yes, 'ello," she said, greeting them in turn.

"And of course you know Mr Farnon, Siegfried."

She turned to look at him and, ashamedly, felt the butterflies start up again. "Yes, indeed. It's good to see you."

"And you," he replied. "You look…"

"Oh, she looks wonderful!" Edward boomed before he could finish the sentence. "So nice to have you here my dear, so nice. You'll have a drink, yes?"

"Oh, well, yes…"

"What would you like? Wine? Brandy? Sherry?"

"A small, sweet sherry would be lovely, thank you." Banks made his way over to a drinks cabinet and, a few moments later, returned with a glass. "Thank you," she replied, taking a sip. "It really is very kind of you to 'ave me…us…'ere."

"Yes," Siegfried echoed. "Very kind."

"Not at all! It's the least we could do to thank you for what you did for Adagio, isn't it Hugh?"

"Oh absolutely," Hugh replied.

"Adagio?"

"Our horse, of course. He would have died without your brave actions, both of you. I can't tell you how annoyed I was with Thompson. So much so, in fact, that he was dismissed from our employ straightaway."

"Oh…I'm…I'm sorry to 'ear that."

"Why? He was a drunk and his actions very nearly cost me one of my most valuable horses. Adagio is the top stallion in our stables and had he been lost…well I dread to think. But thankfully, you pair were on hand to prevent that."

"I think it was quite marvellous the way you two reacted," Margaret said. "Jumping into the water like that. It certainly wouldn't have been _my_ first thought faced with the situation."

"And what would you have done instead, my dear?" Edward asked.

"Well…gone for help, I suppose."

"Meanwhile, Adagio would have drowned." Edward shook his head. "It was very noble and brave of you both."

"Well it's not something that I tend to do every day," Siegfried replied. "But when occasion warrants it, as this one did…" he paused. "The welfare of the animal has to come before all other things."

"Not your own life, surely?" Margaret asked.

"Sometimes…yes, I suppose it does."

"How extraordinary. Lily, do you share this…selfless view?"

"Oh, well…" she felt all eyes upon her again. "I think if Siegfried 'adn't been there, I probably would 'ave done as you suggest Lady…uh…Margaret…and gone for 'elp. It was only 'im being there that encouraged me to go into the water after 'im."

"Well…" Margaret shook her head. "Let's hope that, if there's a next time, it's not a case of you following him off of a cliff or something equally as dangerous."

"Oh, I very much doubt Lily would follow me off of a cliff," Siegfried said, meeting Lily's gaze. "I certainly wouldn't expect her to, no more than I expected her to follow me into the water."

She held his gaze for a long moment, her stomach churning. "I think me father would be even less pleased if I went over a cliff than 'e was about me going into the water."

"Quite," Edward said, as a bell rang in the distance. "Ah, good. Dinner is ready. Shall we go through?"

XXXX

The food was delicious, he certainly couldn't fault them on that, and the wine equally so. Mindful of the fact that he required to drive back to the village, Siegfried kept his consumption to a minimum and instead tried to find other ways to distract himself from constantly looking at Lily. When she had first been announced, he had momentarily lost his breath at how lovely she looked and now, as he watched her conversing with Edward, he couldn't help but think how at ease she appeared on the surface, even if he could guess that she was still nervous underneath at being in such illustrious company.

"And will Hugh inherit your title one day?" she was asking Edward as the main course was cleared away and the dessert wine brought round.

"Heavens no, I wouldn't saddle him with that," Edward replied, looking over at his son. "No, my peerage is a life peerage, I'm afraid, not hereditary. Hugh will have to make do with plain old 'Mister' when I'm gone."

"I'm sure I'll manage," Hugh replied good-naturedly.

"Are you at university, Hugh?" Siegfried asked.

"Yes, Oxford. I'm headed back there next week in fact for my third year."

"Splendid. My brother's due to start his first year at Edinburgh next week also."

"It's a lovely country, Scotland."

"Yes, it is."

"Is he intending to follow in your footsteps?" Margaret queried.

"Well, that's the general idea. How much _studying_ will actually get done is yet to be seen. He's more excited about all the jolly good fun he'll be able to have."

"Well, that's what university's all about, isn't it?" Lily said. "I'm sure you 'ad your fair share of fun when it were your time."

"Yes, I suppose I did," he was forced to agree. "Only I…"

"Only you, what?" Margaret pressed when he didn't continue.

"Ah, it's…well, nothing really," he said hurriedly, lifting his wine glass and feeling his face flush somewhat. He had been about to say that he had already secured Evelyn's affections before his time at university had begun and that, therefore, any such tomfoolery as Tristan intended to enjoy had not been as open to him as it might otherwise have been. Putting his glass back down, he glanced over at Lily and saw her watching him and he couldn't help but wonder if she had guessed what he had been about to say. "You have fine stables here, Edward."

"Oh, thank you. Yes, we're very proud of them. I can give you a tour after dinner, if you'd like."

"I'd like that very much, thank you. I have a particular affection for horses."

"Really?"

"Oh yes, very much so." He paused slightly. "I was in the Army Veterinary Corps during the war."

"Oh goodness," Margaret said. "That must have been quite a challenge for you."

"Yes, I suppose it was, but one I welcomed at the time." He stole another look at Lily who was still watching him. "I must confess to being somewhat of a poor horseman in the saddle, but I do so enjoy being around them."

"You must come here to ride," Hugh said. "I'd be delighted to take you out. Both of you."

"Oh…" Lily laughed, "I've never even sat on an 'orse."

"What, never?" Siegfried asked before he could stop himself. "You have horses on your farm."

"No, never," she replied carefully. "But that doesn't mean I wouldn't like to try it sometime."

"Excellent," Edward said. "Well Hugh, you'll have to set that up. You're both welcome to ride here anytime. We have some very quiet, docile horses that would be eminently suitable for those considered novices. We certainly wouldn't be putting you on any racehorses, that's for sure."

"Thank goodness for that," Lily replied, looking at him over her glass.

Dessert was served and enjoyed and then Edward made good on his promise to show Siegfried around the stables. As they had left Lily and Margaret alone in the drawing room, he couldn't help but think that he had seen a wistful look on Lily's face, as though she would have preferred to join them, but the thought was then lost in the magic of seeing the magnificent creatures Edward owned.

"They are all quite beautiful," Siegfried said. "And they all have such wonderful names. Largo, Aria, Sonata, Cadenza, Symphony…"

"Yes, well a musical theme was never _quite_ intended," Edward replied. "But it appears to have developed over the years and we've never been able to break away from it." He stopped in front of the last stall. "I believe this one here would especially like to greet you." A dark chestnut horse poked his head over the stall door and nudged at Siegfried. "I think he remembers you."

"Of course, Adagio," he said, stroking the horse's nose. "He seems none the worse for his encounter last week."

"No, not at all. His cuts have healed well, and he's been frolicking out in the paddock as normal." Edward paused. "I really _can't_ thank you and Miss Bailey enough."

"Think nothing of it," Siegfried replied. "It was a pleasure, saving something as majestic as this creature."

"John Grant was our vet for many years, but I confess that, after he died, I _was_ concerned as to who might take over his practice. You know what it's like, you become used to one vet and their ways."

"Yes, indeed."

"I've called on Paddy Trotter occasionally over the last few months but, to be honest, he doesn't impress me in the same way as Grant did. Nor in the same way as you have."

He felt his face pink slightly at the praise."That's very kind of you to say, thank you."

"It's not every man, every vet, who would throw themselves into a river for the sake of an animal," Edward said. "I wondered how you might feel about perhaps being on call for us. We can see how things progress, no obligation on either side, that sort of thing. What do you say?"

Siegfried felt a wave of pride wash over him and couldn't help but think that Tristan had been right after all. "I say that sounds like a splendid idea."

"Wonderful. Perhaps you could use Lily as your assistant."

"Yes…" he agreed, his mind returning instantly her. "Perhaps I could…"

XXXX

A part of Lily would have liked to have accompanied the men to the stables to see the horses, but she knew that it would have been poor manners to ask and she couldn't have left Margaret with no company when she had so graciously hosted her. To her surprise, she found the older woman very easy to talk to and their conversation had revolved around the village and people that they both knew and were able to comment on.

"Oh, I quite understand nodding off in church," Margaret said. "Reverend Thwaite isn't exactly noted for his, well, shall we say attention-grabbing sermons."

"No, 'e isn't," Lily laughed. "Sometimes it's quite a relief when I don't feel I 'ave time to attend church."

"You must come and spend a Sunday here with me sometime."

"'ere?"

"Yes, of course. I can't think of anything nicer than having afternoon tea with you. I'm sure we could put Darrowby to rights in the process, what do you say?"

"I…that's very kind of you, really it is."

"Not at all, I'd be delighted. Ah…you're back." Lily looked up as Edward, Hugh and Siegfried came back into the room, the latter looking almost somewhat giddy with excitement. "How did you find the horses?"

"Oh very well," Edward replied. "Adagio was very happy to see one of his rescuers again, as I'm sure he will be to see you again, Lily, the next time you're here."

"Siegfried has kindly agreed to take over the care of the stables," Hugh said.

"How marvellous!" Margaret exclaimed. "I told you I didn't like that Trotter fellow."

The reason for Siegfried's expression now seemed clear and Lily couldn't help but feel a sudden immense sense of pride on his behalf at being bestowed with such an honour. Not that it was any less than his talents deserved. "Congratulations," she said.

"Thank you," he replied, pinking slightly. "I only hope I'm worthy of the task ahead."

"Of course you are," Edward said. "Never a doubt in my mind."

The conversation continued to flow for another half hour until the clock on the mantle struck ten and Lily got to her feet, mindful of the time. "I really should be 'eading 'ome now. But it's been a lovely evening, it really 'as."

"Not at all my dear," Margaret said, rising and kissing her on the cheeks. "It was our pleasure, and you must come back soon, as I said."

"I'd love to, thank you."

"Absolutely," Edward agreed. "We need to get the pair of you out riding."

She glanced sideways at Siegfried. "I look forward to it."

"Collins will take you home, of course. Banks, will you show Miss Bailey to the car please?"

"I can walk Lily out," Siegfried said suddenly. "Assuming, that's all right with you," he looked at her.

"Of course, that would be very kind, thank you." She bid her farewells to the Hultons' before allowing Siegfried to accompany her back through the hallway and down the front steps to where Collins was waiting with the car. As they approached, he opened the door for her and she turned back to look at her companion. "That was a very nice evening."

"Yes, it was," he agreed. "I admit to being slightly nervous on the way here."

"Me too. Congratulations again on the new acquisition to your patient list."

He laughed, "Tristan will be happy. He was only just saying this evening before I left that that might be an outcome of this evening, not that that was what I was looking for, you understand…"

"Of course not," she said. "But it certainly can't ‘urt your reputation, 'aving the biggest local stable on your books, so to speak."

"No, it definitely can't." He paused and held her gaze and she felt her stomach turn over again. "I didn't really get the chance to say how…how beautiful you look this evening. That colour…with your hair it…well…"

She felt herself blush at his words, "That's kind of you to say, thank you. It was me mother's dress."

"It suits you very well." He paused again. "I feel as though I should apologise again, for what happened last weekend…"

"Please don't." He looked at her with surprise. "I'm sorry, that sounded rude. I only meant that you don't 'ave to keep apologising for the way you feel, that's all. I already said that I understood."

"No, but…but I don't think that you do. I…"

"Ma'am?"

She turned to see Collins watching them, still holding open the door and realised that she wasn't quite sure she wanted to hear whatever Siegfried might have been wanting to say. "I should go now, before me dad sends out a search party." She hesitated for a brief moment and then leaned forward and kissed him gently on the cheek, feeling her body react at the warmth she could feel emanating from him. "Good night."

"Good night," he replied.

Turning, she slipped into the back seat of the car, the door closing firmly behind her. He remained on the steps, watching her as Collins slid into the driver's seat and moved the car forwards. As they made their way back down the drive, she turned in her seat, expecting to find him gone, but instead seeing him watch her, his figure growing smaller and smaller, until the car turned down the driveway and he was lost from view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my purposes I envision Hugh as being slightly older than James and I also realised after I had styled his father as Lord Hulton that Hugh wasn’t a Lord, just a wealthy landowner, hence the reference to life peers that I’m not sure were in existence at the time of this story.


	15. Chapter 15

**9 September 1931**

It was a Wednesday like any other and the day when Lily would usually wash and change all the bedsheets. The weather was nice and there was a light breeze so, in theory, they would have been cleaned and dried quickly. Another job ticked nicely off of her weekly list.

In theory.

In reality, she had been woken during the night with the familiar, crippling pain of her monthly, arriving yet again at a time she wasn't expecting. As she had cleaned herself up, she had thought once again about the lot of women and how, every month, she found herself in the same situation with no medical professional of the mind to assist in any way. Not that she knew what she was really expecting Dr Bellamy to do about it.

Dragging herself out of bed, she had made her father his breakfast as normal, though he had opined on her condition when she remained in her housecoat throughout. Telling him that it was simply 'the usual' had thus rendered him into uncomfortable silence and when he had eventually gone outside to see to the beasts, she had shook her head as she always did, wondering how he had survived with a wife and daughter for so long and yet still couldn't seem to wrap his head around the monthly workings of the female body.

She managed to do some light dusting instead of her usual chores, but the pain was commanding, and she regularly found herself resting, lying on the sofa, closing her eyes and wishing that it would pass. She knew there were some women for whom the monthly occurrence was nothing and many for whom it was and yet still managed to throw themselves into the day's tasks including, no doubt, many women on farms expected to take much more of an active role than she was. For her weakness, she felt stupid and helpless and perhaps fortunate that she _didn't_ have her own husband and children to care for in the midst of such agony.

By mid-morning, she had started to feel marginally better and, though she knew it would be short lived before the next wave of pain, took the opportunity to tidy up the kitchen and start making preparations for lunch. She was halfway through putting together the necessary components for a shepherd's pie, when there was a sudden loud knock at the door that made her jump. Pulling her housecoat tighter around herself, she glanced out of the side window before opening the door to a visitor that she had not been expecting.

"Tristan?"

"Lily!" he greeted her with a wide smile, slipping slightly as he took in her attire. "Oh, you're not well."

"No, I'm…I'm fine," she replied, glancing around the yard for any sign of a car…or anyone else. "Did you walk up 'ere by yourself?"

"Yes, I thought it was a lovely day for it, though it is a fair old trek. I admire you for undertaking it as often as you do."

"Well, I'm used to it by now." She stepped back. "Do you want to come in?"

"Oh, only if you're up to visitors and it isn't too much trouble."

"It's not any trouble." He followed her into the kitchen, and she moved over to the stove to finish what she was doing and put a light under the pot to make some tea. "What brings you up this way then?"

"You, actually. Well…you and my brother."

She turned back to face him. "Siegfried's all right, isn't 'e?"

He narrowed his eyes, "Would you be concerned if he wasn't?"

A strange sense of panic washed over her, and she felt her heart start to thud loudly in her chest, "Tristan…"

"No, he's quite all right," he replied, waving his hand dismissively. "Well, insofar as one can be when one is about to enter a new decade of living. It's his birthday on Saturday. Turning the big 4-0 as it were."

"Oh," she said, feeling relieved. "Oh, I see."

"Yes, I can't quite believe it. Such an age!"

"To one as young as you, I suppose it seems that way."

"I'm not _that_ young," he protested. "I'm only ten years or so younger than you, surely?"

"Indeed…" she smiled and turned back to the stove, busying herself making the tea and lifting a tin of freshly made biscuits down from the shelf to offer to him. Once he was happily in the throws of being fed and watered, she sat down gingerly opposite him.

"Are you sure you're all right?" he asked curiously.

"Believe me, I'm fine. So, what does your brother's birthday 'ave to do with me?"

"Well, he's not one for big celebrations, and who can blame him at that age, but Mrs Hall is making a special dinner for him on Saturday evening and I wanted to invite you to join us."

"Oh…" she said, slightly taken aback by the request. "And 'e wouldn't mind me being there, your brother?"

"Of course he doesn't mind! He'd be _delighted_ for you to be there!" Tristan exclaimed. "The four of us shall make such happy company. These biscuits are delicious," he helped himself to another one. "Which is another reason I'm here. Your baking skills are fairly legendary…"

"Well I don't know about that…"

"So, I was hoping you might agree to make a birthday cake for Siegfried. Something with chocolate and lots of icing. That's his favourite."

"Won't Audrey want to make it for 'im?"

"Well, she would have done, but she's very happy at the suggestion that _you_ do it. One less thing for her to think about in the preparation and planning." He grinned at her. "So, what do you say? Will you do it?"

"Yes, of course I will."

"Excellent! And you'll come to dinner?"

"If you're sure Siegfried doesn't mind."

"Lily…" he regarded her with comical reproachfulness. "What a ridiculous notion. As if my brother would ever _mind_ seeing _you_ anywhere! He would have come and asked you himself, but his list is so busy today."

She felt her face flush and got up quickly to hide it, lest he make mockery of her. "It's very kind of you invite me, thank you."

"Splendid," he got to his feet. "Shall we say seven o'clock then? And thank you for the tea and biscuits, yet another reason to see why my brother likes you as he does. Well, goodbye and I hope you feel better soon."

Before she could say anything more, he had thrown open the kitchen door and loped out into the yard out of sight. Alone once more, she found her mind wandering back to Hulton Hall and how handsome Siegfried had looked that evening. Then, of course, she found herself thinking back to the river and to Mrs Calvert's cow shed and then back to dinner in Helmsdale and when he had kissed her and…she shook her head took a deep breath. He was a nice man. He was a friend, someone she was pleased to know, that was all. There was little point in thinking any more on it.

The door to the kitchen opened again, and her father appeared, dirty from the fields. "Who were that then?" he asked. "Saw someone 'eading back down the 'ill a minute ago."

"It was Tristan Farnon, Siegfried's brother," she replied.

"What did 'e want?"

"'e wanted to invite me to a birthday dinner on Saturday night."

"Birthday dinner for who?"

"Siegfried."

"Oh aye?"

Lifting the dish of shepherd's pie, she opened the oven door and slid it inside, deliberately avoiding his gaze. "Should be ready in about an 'our."

"You going then?"

"Where?"

"To the birthday dinner."

She turned back around to face him. "Yes Dad, yes I am."

**12 September**

"You don't look a day over twenty-five!"

"Oh, please, Mrs Hall…" Siegfried blushed as he came into the kitchen in time for breakfast and his housekeeper leaned in to give him a swift hug and a peck on the cheek.

"Yes, please Mrs Hall, don't give him delusions," Tristan added from his position at the table. " _I_ think he happens to look several _years_ over twenty-five."

"You be quiet," she shushed him good-naturedly. "It's your brother's day today, and a special one at that too. 'ere, sit down. Breakfast is ready."

Obediently, Siegfried took his place at the table and eyed his brother suspiciously. "What are you looking at me like that for?"

"Just admiring a relic. In all seriousness…how does it feel to be...forty?"

"It actually feels no different to last night when I was still thirty-nine," he replied. "If you were expecting me to say that there was a great clap of thunder, or that I saw the rest of my life stretched out before me in some sort of vision, I'm afraid you're sadly mistaken. When you get to my age…"

" _Spoken_ like a true relic…"

" _When_ you get to my age, well, birthdays don't seem as such big occasions as they are at your age."

"It's still a special birthday," Mrs Hall chipped in, sliding his plate down in front of him, "whether you like to think it or not."

"Yes…yes, I suppose it is," he mused, lifting his cutlery. It hardly seemed possible for him to be forty, in one sense. Sometimes it appeared no time had passed at all since his coming of age at twenty-one, a few short months before he had married Evelyn. Back then, he had envisioned spending every birthday to come with her and their children, however many they might have been fortunate enough to be blessed with. Forty had seemed so far away at that time. Little had he known that he would be alone.

"I got you a present," Tristan broke into his thoughts. Reaching under the table, he pulled out a brown paper package and handed it across. "I hope you like it. I'm not sure that you will, because I know you like the one you have but…well…I thought you could keep this one in reserve, as it were, for a time when you might, well, want to use it."

Perplexed, Siegfried untied the string wrapped around it and tore it open to reveal a brown leather veterinary bag, the initials SF stamped on the side in gold lettering. For a moment, he was completely lost for words and, looking over at his brother, saw his hopeful smile slip slightly. "Tristan…"

"I bought it myself," he said quickly. "I didn't use any of _your_ money, don't worry. I saved up for it. I…I hope you like it."

"Tristan, it's…it's wonderful," Siegfried replied, a lump forming in his throat. Perhaps there was so much more to his brother than he had ever really considered to be the case. "And so very kind…I…thank you."

"You're welcome," Tristan said, smiling. "I'm glad you like it. Happy fortieth."

"Oh my…" Mrs Hall said, sniffing slightly. "You've got me going now. 'ere, it's not much but I know what you men are like, always going through them and then never 'aving any when you need them." She handed him another package and he opened to find four new pairs of thick socks, knitted by her own fair hand.

"That's very thoughtful of you, Mrs Hall," he said gratefully. "Nothing worse than cold, wet feet."

"No indeed," Tristan agreed. "So…what plans do you have for your blessed day of birth, beyond dinner this evening, that is?"

"Really, you don't have to go to any trouble this evening," Siegfried said, looking at Mrs Hall.

"Nonsense! You shall 'ave a special birthday dinner." She glanced at Tristan. "I'm sure it'll be quite the occasion."

"Well, if you insist…"

"We do," Tristan said quickly. "And what about the rest of the day?"

"Actually, Lord Hulton called last night and asked if I might like to go up and see Adagio getting put through his paces," he replied brightly. "It would seem prudent, especially if I _am_ going to be the stable's veterinarian."

"How thrilling, can I come?"

"Well, I…"

"I think it's a lovely idea for you to spend your day with your brother," Mrs Hall remarked. "Especially as he's leaving tomorrow evening and won't be back until Christmas."

"Yes…terrible thought…" Siegfried replied. "Oh, all right, you can come with me. But mark my words, Tristan, if you say or do _anything_ to embarrass me, you'll be spending Christmas in Scotland on your own."

"Trust me Siegfried," Tristan grinned. "I wouldn't be on my own."

XXXX

"You've been baking, I see," Tom remarked as he came into the kitchen from the yard, kicking his boots off in the process. "Special occasion?"

Lily looked up from where she had been putting the finishing touches to Siegfried's birthday cake. It was chocolate, as requested, with layers of white icing and chocolate drops on top. Though it wasn't the first cake she had ever made, she did feel particularly proud of it, and couldn't help but hope that the recipient would like it. "It's for Siegfried, as well you know."

"I'd forgotten you were going there this evening."

"No you 'adn't."

"I 'ad."

She sighed, unwilling to get into a debate with him about it. "Well I am and I 'ope 'e likes this creation of mine."

"'ow could 'e not? It looks very tasty."

"Well just you stay away from it," she warned. "I'm not risking taking it all the way down there to open it up and find you've 'ad your fingers in it. Is it all right if I take the van tonight?"

Tom paused, "I could give you a lift if you want."

"No, it's all right. I can drive myself down. Stops me getting too tipsy."

"Well I suppose there's that." Her father paused again. "So…you're good friends then, you and…uh…Mr Farnon."

"I suppose so." She looked up again when he didn't respond further. "Do you 'ave something else to say on the matter?"

"Well I just think…" he squirmed slightly, clearly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. "Far as I'm concerned…well…"

"Well what?"

"I don't rightly think that, well, that lads and lassies…you know…friends like…"

"You think I can't be friends with Siegfried just because 'e's a man?"

"Well, it's a bit unnatural, isn't it?"

"I don't know, is it?"

"I think so."

"Well it's lucky for you that I'm not asking you to be friends with a lady then, isn't it?" She took off her apron and wiped her hands. "Honestly, I don't know where you get your ideas from sometimes."

"So…you're _just_ friends then, you and…Mr Farnon." His expression was both curious and hopeful. Curious in that he wanted to know and hopeful in that he wanted to hear the right response from her. She held his gaze for a long moment, once again inwardly cursing him for the selfishness that they both knew he would never admit to. "Yes Dad, we're just friends."

"Right then," he got up and walked over to the sink. "Nowt to worry about."

XXXX

It had turned out to be a very pleasurable birthday indeed, Siegfried couldn't help but think as he stood at the fence watching Adagio rocket around the track at the rear of Hulton Hall. Looking at him, he seemed none the worse for wear for his escapade in the river and as he flew past for a second time, Siegfried found himself moving back slightly at the spray of grass and mud caused by his hooves.

"He's quite something, isn't it?" Edward said, coming to stand beside him.

"Yes, he certainly is. Do you breed from him?"

"We have done, on occasion. Had a good few winners from him, but he's getting a little older now. I would imagine that next year will be his last racing season. I don't believe in pushing horses until their last gasp. I'd like him to see out his time in pleasant surroundings."

"An admirable viewpoint."

"One which you share?"

"Oh, I'm all for a bit of racing, the thrill of it and all that, but welfare is most important and I agree that one shouldn't force horses to give more than they're capable of giving."

"No indeed." Edward paused. "One of our mares is currently in foal to Adagio. She's due next month and I'd be delighted for you to come up and see the new arrival."

"I'd like that very much," Siegfried replied. "It's been a joy spending time here this afternoon."

"I'm sure you'll be here quite often in your capacity as vet. Who knows, we may even get you into the racecourse at some point, though Andrew Johnston has held the post now for quite some years. Still, much like the horses, he can't go on forever."

The thought gave Siegfried a slight thrill. Attending vet at Darrowby Racecourse. What an honour that would be.

"I thought you might have been accompanied by your lovely assistant today," Edward broke into his thoughts.

"I take it, you're not referring to my brother. Where is he anyway?" he glanced around, but saw no sign of Tristan.

"I think Hugh took him into the stables to keep him out of trouble," Edward smiled. "No, I was referring to Miss Bailey."

"Yes, of course. No, not today, but we'd both be keen to take you up on your offer of riding at some point."

"Yes, please do, and before the weather turns too nasty. There's nothing less enjoyable than hacking out in the wind and rain." They turned and began making their way slowly back towards the stable block. "She seems a very capable sort, Miss Bailey, that is."

"She is," Siegfried agreed, his mind straying to her as it often did. "Very capable."

"I know hardened women farmers who wouldn't jump into freezing rivers."

"Yes, indeed."

"You're not married, Siegfried, are you?"

The suddenness of the question brought him up quite sharp and he found himself stopping dead in his tracks and turning to look at Edward, "I…well…"

"My apologies, terribly rude of me to enquire. Don't tell Margaret, she'll berate me from now until winter solstice."

"No, it's not rude I…I suppose it's a legitimate question. No," he took a deep breath. "I'm not married. Not anymore." Edward raised his eyebrows. "I _was_ married but she…she died."

"Oh, Good Lord. Heavens, _do_ please forgive me. I have no wish to upset you…"

"You haven't," he replied quickly. "Really, you haven't. It's…it's a long time ago now, more than fourteen years and I suppose I…well…I still think of her."

"Of course you do, of course you do. Ridiculous to suggest otherwise." They started walking again. "But you know…you're still a very young man…"

Siegfried laughed, "Am I?"

"Yes, of course you are. You can't be more than, what, forty?"

"Today, in fact."

"Well then, many congratulations to you. You must have a brandy before you go, by way of celebration."

"That's very kind, thank you."

"As I said, you're a very young man with a position of some authority in your local community and, well, certain expectations often fall upon men such as yourself."

"Expectations?"

"Yes," Edward paused. "I rather think people might view my situation here rather differently if I didn't have Margaret and Hugh, of course.”

“You’re surely not comparing me to yourself?”

”Perhaps not in terms of scale but, well, the sentiment’s the same. Something to think about, eh?"

"Indeed," Siegfried replied as Tristan and Hugh appeared out of the stable block and began making their way across the grass towards them. "Something to think about."


	16. Chapter 16

"Something smells wonderful," Siegfried said, coming into the kitchen as Mrs Hall was putting the finishing touches to the preparation for that evening's meal. "You really do outdo yourself, Mrs Hall."

"It's roast beef and all the trimmings," she replied, putting the lid on a steaming pot and turning around to face him. "And I 'ope you've got an appetite for it."

"Oh, believe me, I do. I'm positively _starving._ Must have been all that fresh air up at Hulton Hall."

"Of course, 'ow was it?"

"Very pleasant, very pleasant indeed. His Lordship is a very amiable man, I must say. Not at all…" he fought for the right descriptor, "elitist."

"Well that's good to 'ear. I 'ope you get a lot of work out of 'im then, though I'm sure there's no doubt about that. Racehorses always need seeing to, one way or another."

"Yes, I suppose they do."

"Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes," she said, glancing at the clock. "Why don't you and Tristan 'ave a drink together. I'll let you know when it's time."

"That's very good of you Mrs Hall," he replied and, turning, made his way back out of the kitchen and into the sitting room where Tristan was standing by the drinks cabinet. "I hope you're not eying up my best whisky."

"What, not even on your birthday? That _is_ rather mean of you Siegfried."

"I'm only teasing." He lifted the decanter and poured them a glass each. "To family."

"To family," Tristan echoed, "and to birthdays. Big ones."

"Yes, you don't need to go on about it," Siegfried said. "One day _you_ too will be forty."

"Yes, and on that blessed day _you_ will be…oh…almost sixty-two."

"Well…thank you for that. Age doesn't come itself I suppose." He wandered over towards the armchair then paused, staring at the dining table behind it. "Is that right?"

"Is what right?"

"The table. It's set for four."

"So?"

"Four people."

"And?"

"Well, there's only three of us. You, me and Mrs Hall." He turned to his brother. "You're not expecting anyone, are you?"

"Ah…well…" Tristan broke off as the doorbell chimed and relief flooded his face. "That would be the front door."

Siegfried's eyes narrowed. "What's going on?"

Tristan adopted a look of bewilderment. "I have no idea." The bell chimed again. "Don't you think you should perhaps answer it?"

"Tristan…"

"It would surely be rude to keep whoever it is waiting."

Perplexed, and slightly suspicious, Siegfried put his glass down on the table and ventured out of the sitting room and over to the front door. Opening it quickly, he suddenly froze as he came face to face with Lily, holding two packages. "I…Lily?"

"'appy birthday," she said, smiling at him. "I'm not late, am I?"

"Late?"

"Only, I 'ad a bit of trouble starting the van. Reckon it needs its engine looked at. I'm sure me father would have been 'appy to try and strip it down there and then but I told 'im I was in an 'urry." She paused as he made no move. All he could do was look at her. "Do I get to come in or…?"

"No, no of course!" he stepped back suddenly and held the door open. "Please, please come in!" She came up the steps and moved past him into the hallway, brushing gently against him as she did so. His body reacted instantly, and he felt a shiver of what he could only describe as desire, flutter through him. She was wearing some kind of scent, something floral, and he wasn't sure that he had ever smelled anything as wonderful before.

Turning back to face him, she hovered slightly, the packages still in her hands. "Are you all right?"

"What? Yes, I'm fine."

"It's just, you look a bit…"

"A bit what?"

"Well, surprised."

"I'm…" he broke off as Tristan came barrelling through from the sitting room, his face aglow with welcoming pleasure.

"Lily! How lovely to see you! So glad that you could make it! Let me take those from you…" he divested her of her wares and then turned to look at his brother. "Siegfried, perhaps you should help Lily with her coat."

"What? Oh, yes, of course…" he stepped towards her and waited whilst she unbuttoned it before helping her slide out of it and then hanging it on the peg. She was wearing a simple black dress, her hair softly curled on her shoulders and he found himself momentarily speechless. "I…"

"Lily!" Mrs Hall came out of the kitchen and pulled her into an embrace. "It's lovely to see you. 'ow are you?"

"I'm well, thank you Audrey, and you?"

"Oh, I'm fine. Dinner won't be too long. Why don't you head on through to the sitting room? I'm sure Lily could use a drink, Mr Farnon, don't you think?"

"Well, just a small one," she said. "I drove myself down and I want to be able to get 'ome again."

"Very sensible of you," Tristan nodded and then held up the packages. "You didn't come empty-handed then."

"No," she laughed, taking the top one from him and handing it to Mrs Hall. "This one's for later….and this one…" she retrieved the second one and turned back to Siegfried, "is for you."

He stared at it dumbly. "Uh…me?"

"Well yes, it is your birthday after all. It's not much but…I thought you might like it."

He held the package in his hands and turned it over, almost unsure as to whether he should open it or not. There was a short, uncomfortable silence until Tristan declared that the drinks wouldn't pour themselves and propelled Lily away into the sitting room, leaving him alone in the hallway. He could hear his brother chattering away like a budgie in the other room as he slowly unwrapped the gift to find a red, leather bound book entitled _'"In My Opinion" being a Book of Dissertations on Horses and Horsemanship edited by W.E. Lyon.'_ He stared at it for a long moment, running his fingers over the cover and tracing the gold lettering, before slowly making his way into the sitting room where Tristan and Lily were standing together, laughing at some joke that he had obviously missed. They paused when he came in and Lily looked over at him hopefully.

"Lily, this is…" he fought for the right words. "It's very kind of you."

"Oh…well…" her face reddened slightly. "You said 'ow much you love 'orses and I wasn't really sure what I could get but…well…I were over in Wensleydale the other day with Dad and I saw it in a bookshop."

"It's wonderful, thank you. I look forward to reading it."

"What is it?" Tristan demanded, coming over and taking it from him. "Ah, well played Lily, well played! See Siegfried, Lily knows you better than I'm sure you know yourself." He grinned at them both knowingly.

"Lily, would you mind…" Siegfried turned to his brother. "Tristan, a word?"

"Oh, but…"

"Now!" Turning on his heel, he strode out of the sitting room and back into the hallway, Tristan trailing behind. "You didn't tell me she was coming!" he hissed.

"Aren't you pleased that she's here?"

"That…that isn't the point! You should have told me! You should have…"

"Why? What would you have said if I _had_ told you? Would it have made any difference?"

"I…"

"Can't you just be pleased that she's here and that she went to all the trouble to buy you a lovely gift?"

"That isn't…I mean…of course I'm pleased and…and grateful. I just wish you had told me!" He ran his hand over his face, unsure how to begin to put into words how he was feeling at that moment and how much better prepared he might have been had he known in advance that she was to be there.

"If it's a problem, me being 'ere, then I can leave."

He spun around at the sound of her voice to find her standing behind them, her gaze flitting between them, her expression a mixture of confusion and embarrassment. "No, no…"

"I…uh…was under the impression that you knew I were coming." She looked at Tristan. "Obviously, I was mistaken. If you don't want me 'ere…"

"Heavens, no! Of course I want you here! I mean I…" he took a deep breath. "Yes, I want you here. I mean, I want you to stay. For dinner. Please."

"Dinner's ready!" Mrs Hall declared cheerfully, joining them in the hallway. Pausing, she looked between them. "Something wrong?"

"No, Mrs H, everything's fine," Tristan replied. "Isn't it, Siegfried?"

He looked at Lily again who, in turn, dropped her gaze to the floor. "Yes, of course. Everything's absolutely fine."

XXXX

There was no denying the slight awkwardness that hovered over the meal. Tristan did his best to maintain jovial conversation and Mrs Hall joined in at the appropriate moments, but Siegfried seemed altogether distracted and Lily couldn't help but surmise that it was due to her presence. Clearly, the invitation had been Tristan's idea, one that he hadn't shared with his brother, and she knew that she had unnerved him by being there. Perhaps it was because he was thinking about Evelyn and how she _wasn't_ there to celebrate such a milestone with him. Perhaps her being there only highlighted that for him and caused him pain. Pain that she would never have wished to have been at the root of. In any event, she tried to partake of the conversation and could only hope that the evening wouldn't drag on too long.

"That was delicious," Tristan said, pushing his plate away. "I'm absolutely stuffed!"

"Well I 'ope you've got room for cake," Mrs Hall said, "especially as Lily went to so much bother to make it."

Siegfried looked up. "Cake?"

"Oh…well it was just something I threw together," Lily said. "It's nothing fancy, really."

"Nonsense, it looks lovely. 'ere…" Mrs Hall rose, moved over to the sideboard and opened the lid of the package laid there before lifting it and bringing it around to his end of the table. "There, doesn't that look nice?"

"Is it chocolate?" Siegfried asked, his gaze straying to her again.

"Yes, I was told it were your favourite," Lily eyed Tristan who merely smiled. "With lots of icing."

"That _is_ my favourite, thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Well…" Mrs Hall said in the silence that followed. "Perhaps we could all take a breather, I'll tidy up 'ere and then we can 'ave cake and coffee in the sitting room, 'ow does that sound?"

"That sounds marvellous!" Tristan exclaimed.

"Good, then perhaps you could 'elp me clear up."

"Who…me?"

"Yes, you," Mrs Hall said meaningfully.

"Yes! Yes, I can absolutely help you," Tristan leapt to his feet with renewed enthusiasm. "Not a problem at all, Mrs H. Happy to help." He flashed a smile at Lily and then started gathering plates before following the housekeeper out of the room, leaving her alone with Siegfried.

"Audrey really is a wonderful cook," she said, after a long moment of silence.

"Yes, she is. I'm sure you would have been equal to the task, however."

"Oh, I don't know. Me father eats what I make for 'im without complaint but I'm not sure 'e's any great judge." She placed her napkin carefully on the table. "I _am_ sorry, if my coming 'ere took you by surprise."

"Please, don't think anything on it," he replied hurriedly. "I'm…I'm sorry for my reaction. I was, as you say, taken by surprise, that's all. Tristan…he didn't say you were coming and if…if I'd known…"

"You'd 'ave run for the 'ills?"

"No! No, of course not. I…I would have been better prepared, that's all. I…I would have thought more about what I wanted to say to you."

"You don't 'ave to say anything to me, Siegfried."

"Yes, yes I do. I've been thinking about it since…well, since we were at Hulton Hall last weekend and…and when you were leaving, I wanted to say…" he paused and took a deep breath. "This…this isn't easy, Lord only knows why it isn't…"

"Are you pair still sitting here?" Tristan declared, coming back into the room and picking up more crockery. "Really, Siegfried, the least you could do is offer Lily a comfortable chair. Please go back through to the sitting room, Lily. _I_ have manners even if my brother doesn't."

Siegfried glowered at him. "Tristan!"

"What? Oh yes, yes I'm going…"

He disappeared again and Siegfried scraped back his chair. "Shall we?"

"Yes, thank you." She followed his lead and moved back into the sitting room, glancing at the bookcase as she did so. "I never did read any more of your books."

"Oh, well you're welcome to, of course," he said, coming to stand beside her. "I'm sure there must be some more interesting titles than _The History of Veterinary Medicine._ "

"I enjoyed that one."

"Yes, of course you did. Well, you're welcome to borrow any one you choose. Well, except the one you just gave me, that is. I'm afraid I must insist on reading that one first."

"I wouldn't 'ave it any other way," she smiled at him. He smiled back and she felt her stomach turn over.

"Lily, I…" he moved closer to her and whilst part of her felt as though she should step back, another part of her didn't want to, wanted instead to be close to him, whatever he was going to tell her. "What I wanted to say…what I've been _trying_ to say is…that you were right."

She frowned. "Right about what?"

"What you said about me, that night we had dinner in Helmsdale. About…about stifling myself."

"I shouldn't have…"

"No, as I say, you were right. When Evelyn died…I suppose a part of me died with her. And, ever since, I suspect that I've just been _existing_ , rather than _living_ , despite all the many things I've done. A part of me will, undoubtedly, always love her but…perhaps I've come to realise that loving her and…and possibly caring for…loving…someone else, need not be mutually exclusive."

Her breath caught in her throat at the magnitude of what he was saying. "Siegfried…"

"I don't know what I can offer you. I…worry perhaps not much and…and I fear hurting you in the process, more than I know I have done already. But…I would like to try…if you would let me." He moved closer to her again, so much so that they were almost pressed together, and she felt her heart start to race as his gaze held steady with her own. "I think about you so often, more often than perhaps I should and…when we were at Mrs Calvert's and then…the river…I…" he reached out and gently touched her hair. "And at Hulton Hall when you looked… _so_ beautiful and I wanted to tell you…" He paused. "I'm…I'm sorry, perhaps…perhaps this isn't what you want to hear at all…"

"No…" she replied, hearing her voice tremble slightly over the words. "No, it's…it's nice to 'ear. I've thought about you too, but…but I don't want you to feel you 'ave to do anything you don't want to do just because of what _I_ said. I don't 'ave a clue what it's like to…to love someone and then lose them and I 'ave…great respect for 'ow much you still love Evelyn and…" She broke off as he gently cupped her face with his hand and his head lowered towards her own. "I…uh…"

"I'd very much like to kiss you," he murmured. "Again."

"I'd…well…I'd very much like you to kiss me," she heard herself reply, a buzzing noise starting in her ears. "Again."

"Right, who's for coffee!" Tristan bounded into the room and then stopped as they sprang apart. "Ah…I was interrupting something. I'll just go back…"

"No Tristan, it's fine," Siegfried replied quickly. "I'm sure Lily and I could use some coffee, don't you think?"

He turned to her again and she felt her insides slowly start to melt under the warmth of his gaze, at what she could only describe as the promise that it held. "Yes, coffee would be lovely, thank you."

"Splendid. Milk? Sugar?"

"Just some milk, please."

"Siegfried?"

"Oh…ah…black, thank you."

"Black? You never drink black coffee."

"Well I do tonight!" he replied urgently.

"Suit yourself. Mrs Hall's going to bring the cake through. There's even candles to blow out, Siegfried, aren't you a lucky boy?"

"Yes, yes I think I am." Tristan bounded out of the room again and he turned back to look at her, moving closer to her again. "Can we just…get through this evening and then, tomorrow…I could come and see you tomorrow. Or we could meet somewhere…anywhere…your choice."

"Yes," she replied, unable to stop a smile spreading across her face. "Yes, that sounds like the best idea all round."

XXXX

It almost seemed like something quite devoid of reality. Mrs Hall had arrived through with the cake on a plate, blazing with candles, they had sung _Happy Birthday_ and he had blown them out like a child before cutting into the chocolate icing with a large knife and passing around slices for everyone. Everyone had complimented Lily on how delicious the cake was, and she had blushed with modest gratitude which only made him desire her even more than he already did. The conversation had been jolly and flowed easily, yet he found he couldn't tear his gaze away from her. It was as though, if he looked away, she would vanish or somehow change her mind over her feelings towards him. Had Tristan not elected to come into the room at the precise moment that he had, he knew he would have kissed her, and kissed her fiercely, for his body had been protesting wildly at his restraint and, if he was being honest, still was.

The time seemed to fly by and, before he knew it, Lily was rising from her chair and saying that she really had to be getting home.

"I'll walk you to the van," Siegfried said, jumping to his feet. "Unless you'd prefer I gave you a lift home?"

"I'm fine to drive, thank you," she replied. "Assuming the blooming thing starts, that is."

"All the more reason for me to accompany you then."

"I don't think my brother knows much about engines," Tristan commented, then shrank under his look. "But I'm sure he'd be willing to give it a try, if needs be."

Lily graciously thanked them for having her and then he walked her to the front door, retrieving her coat for her and helping her to slip it on, enjoying the slight contact the action brought. Then, they were finally outside and alone.

"Where did you park?" he asked, glancing around for sight of the van.

"Around the corner," she gestured, and he caught her hand in his as they started to walk up the lane to the nearby street. To his relief, she didn't protest at his touch and once they were around the corner, he found himself abandoning all caution, sliding his arm around her waist and pulling her round into him, causing her to gasp.

"I'm sorry. It's just…" he broke off, unsure how to say what he was really feeling, yet enjoying immensely the sensation of her body against his own.

"You don't 'ave to apologise. At least we're alone out 'ere."

"Yes, that _is_ an advantage," he agreed before lowering his mouth to hers and kissing her. She responded instantly, much as she had done that night in Helmsdale, and yet this time…this time…he didn't feel the pressing weight of guilt, of betrayal. This time, it felt right, natural and the culmination of feelings long suppressed. He didn't want it to stop and he gripped her tightly, perhaps too much so. "Oh Lily…" he breathed when they broke apart, pressing his forehead gently against hers. "You've no idea how many times I've thought about this, about you…"

"I've got a fair idea. Must be as many times as I've thought about you." Reaching up, she stroked his face gently, her fingers brushing over the stubble of his beard, before pulling him down to her again, her mouth eagerly accepting his. He suddenly found his hands in her hair, pulling the strands tightly between his fingers. "Do you still want to meet tomorrow?" she asked breathlessly when they broke apart again.

"Yes, where?"

"Weather's still nice. We could go up the 'ills again after church. I could meet you at the edge of our land." Her tone was light, but he could tell there was an underlying meaning to her suggestion.

"You don't want your father to know that you're seeing me?"

She held his gaze for a moment then sighed and looked down. "I just…"

"You don't have to explain," he said hurriedly. "And he doesn't have to know, not just now, not if you don't want him to." Putting his fingers underneath her chin, he gently tipped her head back so that she was forced to look at him again. "Whatever you want, I'll do. Anything."

Her eyes misted over with tears and her face crumpled, "Siegfried…" she pressed herself against him again, burying her face in his shoulder, her body trembling and he held her tightly feeling….so many things that he had truly thought he would never feel again, _could_ never feel again. "I should go," she sniffed, pulling back from him.

"Forgive me for saying I wish you didn't have to."

"I wish I didn't ‘ave to either, but I do."

"I suppose we should make sure this blasted van starts."

"Yes, of course…" she broke away from him and opened the driver's door, climbed inside and pushed the key into the ignition. She turned it once and the engine roared to life, then coughed and spluttered into silence. The second time, the same thing happened, and she grimaced as she turned it for a third time. "Third times the charm." This time the engine roared and kept on roaring.

"Are you sure you'll make it home all right?" he asked, suddenly concerned lest she break down halfway back to Windy Hill. "I could come with you and walk back."

She smiled at him. "Don't be daft, I'll be fine. I'll see you at church tomorrow and then…two o'clock? At the style at the bottom of the ‘ill?"

"I know the one. I'll be there," he promised, before leaning into the van and kissing her again. "Goodnight Lily."

"Goodnight Siegfried. Sweet dreams." She closed over the door and slowly pulled away from the kerb, raising her hand in farewell as she did so.

"Sweet dreams," he echoed, as the lights from the van disappeared around the corner. "As if they could be anything but."


	17. Chapter 17

**13 September 1931**

Siegfried dressed jubilantly the next morning, refreshed, even though he had barely slept a wink the previous night. Every time he had closed his eyes, all he had seen was her face, all he had felt was her mouth against his and the heat from her body. It was quite an intoxicating feeling, he had discovered, almost as though he had been awakened from a deep sleep that he hadn't even really known he was in.

Of course, his thoughts had strayed to Evelyn on occasion, it would have been unusual for them not to, but instead of feeling as though he had done something wrong, betrayed her in some way, he simply felt…at peace and as though she too would be at peace with the course of action he had taken. He certainly felt no regret at kissing Lily, holding her or telling her how he felt, none at all, and it was that feeling that spurred him downstairs and into the kitchen in time for breakfast.

"Good _morning_ Mrs Hall!" he exclaimed. "And what a fine morning it is!"

She glanced out of the window and then looked back at him. "Well the sun's up, that's something at least. You seem uncommonly cheerful this morning."

"Uncommonly? You mean to suggest that I don't usually greet the day with such _bon vivant_?"

"No, you don't."

"Well there's a first time for everything I suppose. No sign of Tristan?"

"Not yet, but no doubt 'e'll appear the minute the plates 'it the table." She paused and surveyed him critically. "You enjoyed yourself last night then."

"I did indeed, very much," he replied, pouring himself some tea. "It was a most pleasant evening. A wonderful meal, delicious cake, delightful company…what more could a man ask for on his birthday?"

"Nothing, I suppose," she smiled, turning back to the stove. "I'm assuming Lily made it 'ome all right."

"Yes, I assume so."

"It were nice of 'er to come."

"Yes, it was."

"Even if it were a surprise?" She turned back around to face him. "A big surprise?"

"It _was_ a surprise, yes, but not an unpleasant one."

"No, I gathered that."

He felt his cheeks start to redden, "Whatever could you be referring to, Mrs Hall?"

"You don't 'ave to pretend with me. I've seen the way you look at 'er. I'm 'appy for you, if it's what you want."

"Yes…" he mused, thinking of her again. "I rather think it is…"

"Morning all," Tristan announced, joining them in the kitchen. "Breakfast smells good. I don't know how I'm going to cope at university away from all this good home cooking."

"Well I doubt it will do you any harm," Siegfried pointed out. "Too much of a good thing and all that."

"Well one only has to look at you to know that. I thought I'd accompany you to church this morning."

"Really? It's never interested you before."

"Well seeing as I _am_ leaving this afternoon, I feel it's only right that I pay my respects to the Lord before I go. Not to mention the fact that I'm keen to see how you and Miss Bailey act around each other now that, well, I'm assuming certain words have been exchanged between you." He grinned mischievously and sat down at the table. "You were very coy when you returned from walking her to her van last night."

"Well I hardly think that what may or may not have transpired between us is any of your business."

"Did you kiss her?"

"Tristan…" Mrs Hall warned, setting plates down in front of them both.

"Oh, come on, I think it's only fair that I know given that I was, in fact, the author of the situation that brought you together."

"Something for which I still have not forgiven you," Siegfried pointed out. "Or _you_ Mrs Hall." She gasped. "Yes, I know you were in on it."

"You can hardly hold it against either of us now, not when, well…" Tristan grinned again. "Go on, you must at least be able to tell us if you kissed her or not."

"I…" he paused, trying to think of a suitably deflective answer but, glancing up, couldn't help smile at the look of expectation on both his companion's faces. "Yes, all right. If you must know…I kissed her."

"I _knew_ it!" Tristan exclaimed. "How was it? Did she kiss you back? How many times did you…?"

"I don't think we need 'ear the intimate details," Mrs Hall interrupted, sitting down opposite them. "There are _some_ things better kept private."

"Fine," Tristan sighed, digging into his bacon. "I hope you arranged to see her again."

"Today, in fact," Siegfried replied. "We're going for a walk in the hills."

"How romantic. Alone…in the wilderness…no-one to see what you might get up to…"

"Really Tristan, there are times when you make the limitations of your age so abundantly clear. I'm not quite sure what you assume we'll be getting up to." He concentrated on his plate, knowing full well what his brother was alluding to.

"I could make an educated guess."

"Right, that's enough of that kind of talk," Mrs Hall said. "Eat up or we'll be late for the service."

The breakfast table descended into silence, save from the occasional snort of laughter from Tristan and though he wanted to be angry with his brother, and affronted at the causal way he was depicting what might occur between himself and Lily, he couldn't help smiling at the very prospect. Being alone with her, in the hills, was a very welcoming thought though, of course, being a gentleman, nothing would occur that wasn't completely appropriate between two people at their stage.

By the time breakfast was over, the dishes were cleared and they were making their way to church, Siegfried felt butterflies start to flutter in his stomach at the prospect of seeing Lily again, not that he intended to say or do anything that might alert anyone out with the inner sanctum that anything had occurred between them. He was rewarded almost instantly upon arrival, as she suddenly appeared from around a corner, walking with her father. Upon seeing him, a small, knowing smile started on her face and he couldn't help but return it as they met in the doorway.

"Lily…Mr Bailey," he greeted them.

"Morning Siegfried," she replied carefully.

"It's a lovely day."

"Yes, it is."

There was a brief moment of silence a moment, he would have said, so highly charged that he fancied he could almost see sparks flying. In that moment, he wanted to take her hand, pull her close to him, kiss her, anything that might cause the bodily connection that he was craving, but sense won out and he instead hovered in front of her, hoping that she could take his meaning.

"Well I don't know about you, but _I'm_ going inside," Tom said moving past them. "Lily?"

"Yes, coming," she replied, glancing at him and then back at Siegfried.

"After you," he gestured, allowing her to go first. Once inside, she and her father took one pew and he, Tristan and Mrs Hall another across the aisle and slightly behind, but he was careful to keep Lily in his eyeline if for no other reason than to provide a welcome distraction from the minister's ramblings. He had no idea what Reverend Thwaite was saying, and no wish to know. All he could think about was her, all her could see was her, and even though she couldn't directly see him, there was a slight smile at the corner of her mouth that he could only assume was there because she knew he was watching her. The very thought itself, the almost…illicitness…of it, thrilled him more than he would ever have thought possible. If there had been any doubt in his mind, any at all, that he hadn't done the right thing in telling her how he felt, he knew that it had long been vanquished and he only felt sorrow that it had taken him so long.

"Well that was suitably dreary," Tristan commented when the service concluded, and they were making their way back outside. "I've had a lucky escape up until now."

"Yes, I suppose you have," Siegfried replied, distractedly watching Lily as she stood patiently while Tom spoke to Henry Dinsdale.

"Don't worry," Tristan said, breaking into his thoughts. "I'm not offended."

"Not offended at what?"

"At the fact that you clearly can't wait to get rid of me in order to go and meet with the delightful Lily. I can read you like a book, big brother. Not that I blame you. She _is_ looking quite lovely today."

"Yes, she is and no, I'm not eager to get rid of you as you suggest. But I also don't want you to miss your train and if I'm to take you to the station we really should leave as soon as possible."

"Yes, I suppose so," Tristan sighed. "I _will_ miss this place though."

"You'll be back before long," Siegfried replied, his eyes still on Lily. As though reading his thoughts, she turned slightly and smiled at him again before following her father back along the street to where, presumably, they had left the van. "Well, let's get your things then and be on our way."

Back at Skeldale House there was a sudden flurry of activity as Tristan began remembering items that he had previously forgotten to pack and Mrs Hall ran around the kitchen putting together a quite sumptuous feast for him to eat on the train.

"Now, you behave yourself," she said, pulling him into an embrace as they were about to depart. "Don't go getting into any scrapes."

"As if I would," he replied. "And you keep an eye on my brother, Mrs H."

"Oh, don't you worry about that."

"I don't need either of you keeping an eye on me," Siegfried protested. "I'm a grown man, unlike some."

They rode together to the station in relative silence, Siegfried finding himself consumed with thoughts of Lily and their meeting to come. It was only when he pulled up at the station and helped Tristan out with his luggage that the enormity of the fact that his brother was leaving after so many months hit him, and he felt a sudden profound wave of sadness wash over him.

"So…this is goodbye until Christmas then."

"Yes, I suppose it is. I hope you enjoy your first semester. Do _try_ and concentrate on some work and not just on expanding your social life."

"Whereas my advice to you is quite the opposite," Tristan grinned. "In fact, I am positively _instructing_ you to focus on your social life, in particular…"

"Yes, yes, yes…"

" _In particular…_ securing the affections of Miss Lily Bailey in a permanent way."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Marriage, Siegfried. I'm talking about marriage. You've wasted enough time dancing around her. When I return, I want to see some evidence of permanence, longevity, future…" he cocked his head to one side. "I want to see you as happy, if no more so, than you clearly are right now."

"Marriage. What a thought," he replied with a short laugh, not that the prospect hadn't crossed his mind at least once or twice since the previous evening. After all, what was the point of courtship if it didn't lead to matrimony? "Well, we'll have to see about that."

"Indeed." Tristan paused. "Well, goodbye Siegfried."

"Goodbye Tristan. For what it's worth…I _will_ miss you."

"I doubt I'll miss you. I'll be having far too much fun!" Tristan grinned, before lifting his bags and turning for the gate. "You don't have to wait. I promise I'll get on the train."

"Make sure that you do," Siegfried chided before watching him disappear around the corner and onto the platform. For a moment, he continued to wallow in the melancholy that his younger brother's parting had brought him, then he remembered where he was going that afternoon and who he was going to see and felt his mood lighten almost immediately.

XXXX

It had been an effort to concentrate in church that morning. Not that the minister's sermons usually captivated her in any way, but they had seemed even less significant when, all throughout the service, she had been aware of Siegfried's eyes on her. It was almost telepathic in that she couldn't see him but could feel him. And when she thought about it like that, she couldn't help but recall being in his arms the previous evening, feeling his body against hers. It made her randomly shiver with excitement and her father had looked at her with slight bewilderment on more than one occasion and then queried if she was cold. He had asked her little of how the evening had gone and she had told him as much. In particular, she had _not_ mentioned what had happened when she and Siegfried had been alone, nor what she hoped might happen again that afternoon.

"Going somewhere?" Tom asked when she appeared in the kitchen after lunch dressed for being out in the hills.

"I told you I were going for a walk," she replied, casually filling her bag with provisions. She had elected to take as much as would be necessary for two people but not enough to arouse any great suspicion.

"Aye, you did." He paused. "Cows are needing shifted to the bottom pasture."

"So?"

"Thought you might want to 'elp."

His words brought her up short and she lifted her head and stared at him. "'elp?" He nodded. "Why would you think that?"

"Don't you want to?"

"It's not…it's not that, it's just that you've never asked me to 'elp you before. You've always said it weren't my place."

"Aye…well…" he looked at the floor. "Just figured you might want to 'elp me now is all. Might not be a bad thing, you knowing a bit more about the farm, that is."

"Really?"

"Well, reason states that, when I'm eventually dead and gone, you'll be left 'ere and it wouldn't be a very good start for you to know nowt now, would it?"

Her heart, which had momentarily leapt at the thought of him finally realising she was worth more than simply staying in the kitchen, sank again at his latter words. He was clearly still so sure, _so sure,_ that she was to be an old spinster, left alone in a draughty old farmhouse when he was no longer around. He clearly couldn't comprehend the fact that there could be more for her, especially now when she herself felt there could be.

"I might not _be_ 'ere when you're dead and gone," she replied acerbically, closing up the bag and pulling it onto her shoulders. "I might be somewhere else, far away."

"Oh aye?" he eyed her suspiciously. "And where might that be then?"

"I don't know."

"Skeldale House?"

She paused on his words, at the look in his eyes and though part of her felt that the easiest course of action would be to deny it and tell him he was being ridiculous another part of her couldn't help but feel so very tired at having to pretend. "Maybe." She turned for the door. "I'd better go."

"Lily…"

"What?" She met his gaze again, trying desperately to keep her emotions in check. "What is it, Dad?"

"'e's not for you."

"Really? 'ow the 'ell would you know?" Without waiting for him to respond, she threw open the door and stormed out, letting it slam behind her and not caring if he minded. The sun was still shining but there was a slight breeze in the air, and she was glad that she had decided to put on a jacket. As she trudged down the road towards the field, she felt tears start to form in the corner of her eyes and she willed them away, not wanting Siegfried to see them. "You're supposed to be 'appy," she told herself fiercely. "You can't let 'im see you cry."

As she approached the style that led out of the field and into the hills, she saw him waiting for her and her heart leapt at the sight of him. He was leaning against the gate and, as she approached, a slow smile started to spread across his face, an action she couldn't help but mimic. "You're early," she greeted him. "It's not quite gone two yet."

"Well, I can't really abide tardiness, in myself or others," he replied. As she stepped up and over the style, he held out his hand to help her down. "Not to mention the fact that, well, I was eager to see you again."

"As I was to see you," she replied, pulling back as his slid his arms around her. "Let's walk a bit before we do any of that."

"Something wrong?"

"No…but me dad'll be heading to the lower field and I didn't tell 'im that I was meeting anyone so…"

"I see. He must have his suspicions, surely?"

"I'm sure 'e does," she replied, recalling their conversation. "Not that I care right at this specific moment."

"Well, that's good to hear. Let me carry the bag." They started walking along the track, in companionable silence at first, then Siegfried started talking about saying goodbye to Tristan and how he had found himself actually feeling quite sad at his brother leaving, for reasons he wasn't quite sure he truly understood. As he continued to talk, and they drew further away from the farm, she felt herself start to relax and, once they were around a bend, she paused and glanced back. "Reckon we're far enough away now."

"Thank heavens for that!" He dropped the bag onto the ground and reached for her, pulling her tightly into him, so quickly that she barely had time to draw breath before his mouth was on hers. The kiss was hungry, desperate, and though she had no experience of wanting someone, she knew that she wanted him and that she never wanted the sensation of being in his arms to stop. "I could barely contain myself this morning," he said when they broke apart. "I wanted to kiss you right there in the church."

"That would 'ave raised a few eyebrows."

"I'm not sure I would have cared." His mouth found hers again and she was once more swept up in the intoxication of being held, his hands moving down her back to her bottom and almost inexplicably pulling her pelvis against his. As he did so, she suddenly became aware of something hard pressing against her and she pulled back, her gaze straying downwards. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to…"

She stepped back, feeling a sudden sense of slight panic wash over her. Of course, she knew what went on between men and women. Despite never having experienced it for herself she wasn't so ignorant as to not be aware of its existence and yet she had somehow convinced herself that it was just one more thing in life that she was destined never to know or truly understand. She felt her face flush furiously and when she met his gaze again, he was looking at her with slight curiosity.

"You've never been touched, have you?"

"Touched as in…?"

"As in made love to."

"No," she replied softly. "Never." He moved towards her again and she stepped back further, feeling suddenly fearful, terrified that he might want or demand more from her than at that moment she felt equipped to give. "I…I can't…"

"No!" he exclaimed, stopping dead in his tracks. "No, I wasn't…I wasn't suggesting…I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you."

"I'm not frightened. It's just…well…as I said I've never…with any man…" She suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of shame, as though she was somehow lacking for never having experienced a man's intimate touch.

"Lily…" he reached out for her hands and drew her closer to him again, his breath dancing across her face. "You have so much to give. I wish you could see how much…" he kissed her again, more gently this time, then pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly. Immediately she felt safe, protected, cared for…feelings that she had never experienced before. "I apologise for getting carried away. I shouldn't have said what I did but…I confess I can't help what I feel for you."

"Siegfried…" she drew back from him. "You said last night that you didn't know what you could offer me…"

"I know what I said but…"

"Please, let me finish. The same goes for me. I don't know what _I_ can offer _you_. You know the situation with me dad and…and I know that I should just tell 'im that this is 'ow things are going to be and I 'ave tried but…it's not easy, much as I'm sure it wasn't easy for you overcoming 'ow you feel about Evelyn."

He stroked her hair gently. "The last thing I want to do is pressure you in _any_ way. We both... have baggage, in a way. But now that I know how I feel about you, and how I believe you feel about me…I don't want anything to jeopardise what we could have together, what we could _be_ together. To that end, perhaps we should take things very slowly, build our relationship brick by brick. There's no rush for anything, is there?"

"No," she agreed. "I suppose not. Perhaps…perhaps you could come for dinner sometimes and we could go out again. Let me dad get used to the idea, rather than me just taking 'im by surprise. I'm sure, once 'e saw what you were really like…" She tailed off, unsure who she was trying to convince more, Siegfried or herself.

"I think it's a splendid idea," he agreed, "but I want you to promise me two things."

"What two things?"

"One, you'll come and spend time with me at the surgery. I've been thinking about it and that day at Mrs Calvert's, I saw something in you. I'm not entirely sure how to explain it, but I saw in you someone that has the potential to become a very good vet."

"Give over," she laughed. "I might be able to 'elp you out with some things from time to time, simple things, but me? A vet?"

"And why not?"

"I can't afford to go to university for a start, and even if I could, me dad would never allow it and besides…"

"There's more to life than formal qualifications, not that I would ever let Tristan hear me say that."

" _Besides_ …you said yourself that there aren't many women vets."

"A fact I also said was a great pity." He looked at her earnestly. "I could teach you all the things you ever needed to know. Quite apart from the satisfaction that would give me, I would get to spend time with you, which is what I desperately want. What better way is there? Promise me you'll at least think about it?"

"All right," she shook her head, marvelling somewhat at his flight of fancy but being prepared to indulge it. "I promise I'll think about it."

"Splendid!"

"What was the second thing?"

"Ah, well, now that one is more immediate and, possibly, more enjoyable." He smiled at her wickedly. "I want you to promise to let me kiss you, regularly and without question."

She felt herself melt into his arms again, allowing him to pull her close, raising her mouth up to meet his. "Now _that_ I can definitely promise."

They walked the rest of the way up to the top of the hill where she had taken him the first time, then sat together in silence, his arms around her, simply taking in the view. Though her father was still at the back of her mind, Lily couldn't help but feel a sense of peace, and when the time came to head back, she couldn't help but wish that they could just stay up there forever.

"Where did you park?" she asked, as they reached the style again.

"Out on the road. I thought it best not to come into the farmyard. Ah…" he gestured with his head. "I think your father's seen us."

Turning to follow his gaze, she saw Tom standing down in the lower field, his eyes on them. Though she couldn't clearly read his expression, she could imagine that it would be less than pleased. "I suppose 'e 'as," she replied quietly, thinking on her next course of action. Turning back, she smiled at him. "I've 'ad a wonderful time."

"As have I. I suppose this is goodbye for now."

"I suppose it is."

"You'll think about what I said, about coming to the surgery?"

"I promised I would."

"Good," he smiled. "When can I see you again?"

"Lunch? One day this week?"

"I'd like that very much."

"I'll call Skeldale House."

"I look forward to it." She glanced over her shoulder again to where her father was still watching, thinking back to what she had said about not surprising him. But why shouldn't she? Why should she care so much about his feelings when he seemed to care little for hers? Decision made, she stepped closer to Siegfried and kissed him. For a slight moment, he hesitated, then responded by sliding his arms around her and pulling her close to him. When they broke apart, he looked at her with slight confusion. "Won't your father have seen that?"

"Yes," she said. "But right now, I don't care."


	18. Chapter 18

**25 September 1931**

Lily was nervous, more nervous than she should have been at such an innocuous thing and, yet, was it really that innocuous? Here she was, at the ripe old age of twenty-eight, having never invited a man to dinner and now staring the prospect square in the face. It had seemed like such an obvious idea in her head, especially as she had already had dinner three times at Skeldale House in less than a fortnight and she felt it only fair that she return the invitation, to Siegfried at least. He had accepted, of course, and then the task of telling her father had befallen her. At first, she had considered asking his permission for Siegfried to come, then she had chastised herself for being so stupid and weak and had instead simply informed him that there were to have a guest that Friday evening.

"Oh aye?" Tom had enquired from his position in the armchair. "And who might that be then?"

"Siegfried," she had replied casually, flicking though a magazine, the content of which she had no real interest in. "I thought it might be nice given how often I've been down there of late."

"Oh aye, very nice." His tone had dripped with sarcasm, but she had chosen to ignore it as he poured himself another large glass of whisky and then had said little to each other for most of the remainder of the evening. In truth, he had said little to her at all since witnessing her kiss Siegfried in the field. She had half expected him to shout at her, tell her that she wasn't to get involved with him but, instead, he had been stoically quiet, emitting a sense of misplaced wounded pride at every opportunity and looking at her as though she had no business courting anyone at all.

It was only the thought of Siegfried that kept her spirits light. They had met on several occasions since their walk in the hills and each time had proven better than the one before. The more time spent in each other's company, the more comfortable they became and much of the awkwardness that had plagued the first few moments of their courtship were soon resigned to history. When she didn't have the chance to see him, she had started writing him letters, more formal to begin with, but slowly developing into a warm exchange which he readily reciprocated. Each time she posted one or received one in return, she felt her heart sing in a way it didn't in any other circumstance.

Tom's offering for her to assist him on the farm had not materialised further. She had ruefully had to admit that it had clearly been part of a manipulation to stop her from ending up in Siegfried's arms and, when he had seen it had had the opposite effect, he had made no secret of the fact that her place was, very much, in the kitchen.

Not knowing how her father was going to react when faced with Siegfried in his home, was the matter giving her most cause for concern. As she flitted about the kitchen that afternoon making final preparations for the meal, she found herself offering up a fervent prayer that everything would go well, that her father would be hospitable and that Siegfried wouldn't be put off if he wasn't. It was ridiculous, completely ridiculous, that such a thing was causing her the anxiety that it was and as she dressed for dinner and fixed her hair and makeup, she noticed that her hands were shaking.

"Come on Lily," she chided herself gently as she examined her reflection in the mirror. "What's the worst that can 'appen, eh?"

Siegfried was due at seven o'clock and, knowing that he would be prompt, she found herself back in the kitchen in good time, laying the table and making sure that everything was on track. Her father had kept out of her way until almost the last minute when, at five minutes to seven, he came in from the yard, his clothes and boots filthy from having bedded the beasts down for the night.

"You'll be getting washed and changed," she said.

He shot her a look. "Think I don't know how to present meself?"

She bit back a retort and instead said nothing as he kicked off his boots and then disappeared upstairs. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to keep herself calm, she froze suddenly as headlights swept across the yard and a car pulled to a stop outside. Opening the door, she felt a sudden rush of relief when she saw Siegfried climbing out, a large bouquet of flowers in his hands, the smile on his face making her insides slowly melt. It had been three days since she had last seen him and, at that moment, it felt like a lifetime.

"Hello," he greeted her as he reached the door.

"'ello. Come in."

"Thank you. Oh, these are for you."

She smiled gratefully as he presented the flowers to her, never having received such a thoughtful gift from anyone before. "They're beautiful, thank you," she replied, kissing him quickly on the cheek. "You didn't 'ave to do that."

"Well, I wanted to. I brought something for your father too." As if on cue, Tom appeared in the doorway and Lily felt her insides twist with anxiety again at the look on his face, though she was relieved to see that he had put on a clean shirt and trousers at least. "Good evening Mr Bailey."

"Evening," he replied stiffly.

"So nice of you and Lily to invite me for dinner." Tom said nothing, instead moving over and taking a seat at the table. "I…understand you're quite the purveyor of whisky so I thought…" Siegfried held out a small bottle.

"That were kind, Dad, weren't it?" Lily said, moving over to the stove and checking on the soup that was bubbling away.

"Aye," Tom replied blandly, taking the bottle from him and setting it down on the table. "Very kind, I'm sure."

An awkward silence descended, and Lily flitted back to the table. "Well, sit down Siegfried. Dinner shouldn't be too long."

"Smells wonderful," he said, pulling out a chair and sitting down opposite Tom. "I've been looking forward to it all day."

"Well there's soup to start with, some of me 'omemade broth, and then roast chicken to follow," she replied proudly. "I 'ope you'll like it."

"If you made it, then I'm sure I shall. Your daughter's a fine cook," he directed the latter comment at Tom who merely grunted.

"'ave you 'ad a busy day?" Lily asked, turning down the heat and lifting the soup bowls waiting on the side.

"You could say that. Mr Dobson's been having terrible trouble with one of his cows, poor thing, so I spent quite a bit of time up there this morning. Then one of Mr Salter's ewes managed to get herself tangled in some wire and she was a bit of a mess. I feel as though I've never stopped."

"Occupational 'azard in your profession I would 'ave assumed," Tom said.

"Well, yes."

"Were you able to save the ewe?"

"Yes, thankfully. She had some terrible cuts but I'm confident that she'll be fine in a few weeks time. Oh, thank you." Siegfried smiled up at her as she placed a steaming bowl of soup in front of him.

Smiling, she turned back to the stove, ladled out a similar bowl for her father and then one for herself before joining them both at the table. Silence descended once more as they started to eat and she found her brain scabbling for decent conversation.

"This really is delicious," Siegfried said. "You'll have to give Mrs Hall the recipe."

"Oh, it's just a simple broth," she replied, feeling her face flame slightly. "I'm sure she could make it as well as I can if not better."

"Well I won't tell her that she hasn't yet if you won't."

"Must be strange," Tom butted in. "Living in an 'ouse just you and 'er."

Siegfried paused, "How so?"

"Well, you're a man on 'is own, she's a woman on 'er own…"

"She's my housekeeper. I'm sure I can't be the only single man who has one."

"Not able to look after yourself then."

If Siegfried was struck by the blatant irony of her father's statement, his expression belied it. "I have a very busy practice. I'm sure that I _could_ look after myself if I required to, but it's certainly very welcome having someone there to keep house and do everything that a…well, that needs to be done, I suppose. Much as you have a busy farm," he added.

"Audrey's a lovely woman," Lily said. "And, I'm sure, an excellent 'ousekeeper."

"Wouldn't want to see 'er out of a job then, would we?" Tom said, looking at her.

"No, I suppose not. Are we all finished?" She got to her feet again and cleared away the soup bowls before beginning the process of dishing up the main course. She had hoped that the conversation would continue meantime, despite the content not being exactly what she would have liked, but instead silence reigned once again until everyone was served and she was sat back at the table.

"Lily said you were a widower," Tom said suddenly and she felt herself freeze at his words, before stealing a look at Siegfried.

To her relief, he looked non-plussed by the question. "Yes, I am."

"Long time ago."

"Fourteen years."

"Same time I lost my Rose."

"Yes, Lily told me. I'm very sorry for your loss."

"Aye, well…been on your own a long time then."

"Yes, I suppose I have."

"You'll have gotten used to it."

He glanced over at her and she smiled tentatively. "In a way, but that's not to say that I wouldn't welcome the prospect of not seeing out my days without company."

Tom's face tightened and he focused his gaze on his plate, all prospect of conversation seemingly ended. She and Siegfried continued to speak about general matters, the village, other cases he had had recently and whether he had heard much from Tristan. This came to a halt, however, when Tom, having finished his food, dropped his cutlery onto the plate with a clatter, pushed back his chair and left the room.

For a moment, they both watched the space where he had been, Lily finding herself grow angrier by the minute. "Excuse me a moment," she said finally, pushing her chair back from the table.

"Of course," Siegfried said, half-rising as he did so.

She made her way through to the sitting room where her father was now ensconced in his armchair next to the fire. "Why are you behaving like this?" she asked.

"Behaving like what?"

"Like…like some sort of child who 'asn't got 'is own way! Slamming down your cutlery and just leaving the table. Siegfried is a guest in our 'ouse and you…"

"Don't you be telling me 'ow to act in me own 'ome lady. I've sat and ate dinner with you both and I've made conversation."

"Conversation? Is that what you call it? Making snide remarks about Mrs Hall and 'ow 'e'll be used to living on 'is own?"

"Aye, conversation. What more do you want?"

The question seemed almost farcical. "I want you to make an effort! I want you to be 'appy at the fact that _I'm_ appy! Is that really so much to ask?" He said nothing but simply lifted the newspaper that was sat on the table and slowly unfolded it. She stared at him for a long moment, hoping that he might say more, might give her some sort of reassurance that he had heard what she had said and would take it on board, but there was nothing. Curling her fingers into a fist and digging her nails into her palms, she turned on her heel and walked back into the kitchen.

"Everything all right?" Siegfried asked as she sat back down.

"Not really. I knew 'e would be like this, I _knew_ it!" She couldn't stop the tears from coming and though she tried to hide them by covering her face with her hands, it was useless, and she felt her body start to shake. Instantly, she heard his chair scrape against the floor and seconds later his arms were around her, pulling her into him and murmuring words of comfort that she couldn't quite make out over the sound of her own heavy breathing. The action seemed to soothe her, however, and she managed to gather herself back together, wiping her eyes viciously as she did so. "I'm sorry," she said, hiccupping slightly over the words.

"You have nothing to be sorry about. Nothing at all. _I'm_ only sorry that I'm the cause of all this."

"You?" she looked at him. "You're not the cause of it, _'e_ is. You could never…I mean…so much good 'as come out of you and I in such a short space of time and I…" she sighed and shook her head. "I just don't understand 'im. I suppose I never will."

"Lily…if you would rather…" he hesitated slightly. "If you would rather that we…stop…"

"No! No, I don't want that, please!" She exclaimed, suddenly terrified by the thought. "Please, I…"

"All right, all right…I just don't want to make things any more difficult for you than they appear to be already." He stroked her hair gently and then leant over and kissed her. "I care about you too much to want that."

She held his gaze for a long moment and then kissed him back, longer, deeper and harder than the first time and she couldn't help but wish that they were on their own, in their own home, without having to worry about anyone or anything else. Breaking apart, she gently cupped his face and ran her fingers over his beard. "I'm lucky to 'ave found you."

"That makes two of us," he replied, catching her hand in his and kissing it.

"I've got apple crumble for pudding, if you can manage some."

"As if I would ever turn down the offer of pudding."

Smiling, she got to her feet again and moved back over to the oven, pulling out the tray that was warming inside. Lining up three bowls, she scooped in equal amounts and then carried two of them over to the table. "There's custard too," she said, retrieving the jug from the side.

"Wonderful."

"Just give me a moment," she said, leaving the kitchen and heading back into the sitting room where her father had poured himself a large glass of whisky. "There's pudding if you want some." Without lifting his head, he held out his hand and she felt anger flare inside her again. "If you want it, you can come to the table and eat with the rest of us." Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and headed back to the kitchen, taking her seat across from Siegfried. A few moments later, her father appeared in the doorway. He paused and then re-took his own seat, digging into the pudding without so much as looking at either of them.

"How are your horses doing?" Siegfried asked, after another tense silence.

"Fine," Tom replied.

"That's good."

"I 'ear you're going to be working for Lord Hulton."

"Ah, yes, well he _did_ ask if I would look after his horses' veterinary needs…"

"It were a 'onour to be asked," she chimed in.

"Yes, it was," he agreed.

"Think you're a cut above then?" Tom lifted his head and looked at him.

"I…well…no," Siegfried replied. "I mean…"

"Dad…"

"I'm just saying. You've 'ardly been 'ere five minutes and already you're at 'is Lordship's beck and call."

"Well, I've been in Darrowby some ten months now and I don't think his Lordship sees it quite like that…"

"No? Paddy Trotter's a good vet."

"Yes, I have no doubt that he is…"

"'e were looking to Hulton's horses after John Grant died and now, all of a sudden, 'ere _you_ are."

"Siegfried saved one of Lord Hulton's horse's lives," Lily said.

"Well, we both did," he said generously.

"Aye," Tom looked at her. "So, you did."

"If you've got something to say about it, why don't you just say it?" she glared at him.

He shook his head and dropped his spoon into his now empty bowl. "I've got nowt else to say." Pushing his chair back, he rose from the table and once again headed towards the sitting room.

She felt deflated, utterly deflated, and had there not been anger mixed in with it, she knew that she would have started weeping again. Instead, she simply concentrated on finishing her own pudding before meeting Siegfried's gaze again. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to keep apologising. Besides, I came here tonight to see _you_ , not him." Reaching across the table, he covered her hand with his. "And I wouldn't have missed this meal."

"Thank you," she said, smiling gratefully at him. "That means a lot. I'd offer you a comfortable chair in the sitting room for coffee but…"

"I'm quite happy right here."

She felt her heart swell again at the knowledge that he appeared to care so much for her. "Me too."

XXXX

"'ow did it go?" Mrs Hall asked when Siegfried returned to Skeldale House.

The entire drive home he had experienced a whole gambit of emotions. Joy, at having spent time with Lily, anger at the way her father had behaved, sorrow that it affected her so badly. He had been tempted to say something, really say something, but sense had won out and he had realised that it would probably only make things ten times worse for her.

"It was…uh…interesting," he said, sitting down in the armchair opposite.

"Interesting?"

"Her father is…." he fought for the right words, "a very difficult man."

"I suppose 'e's not used to Lily 'aving a gentleman friend."

"And that gives him the right to behave in the way he did this evening? There were occasions when he was downright rude. Lily got very upset at one point and I don't blame her. You would think that he would be pleased at the prospect of her being happy."

"Perhaps 'e can't comprehend 'ow she couldn't be 'appy now."

"What, stuck up at Windy Hill all day every day, pandering to his every need?"

"Folks might say I do the same for you."

"You're my housekeeper, Mrs Hall, and you're paid for the tasks that you undertake for me. Lily is his daughter and, as far as I'm concerned, it's an entirely different thing. A father should want their child to be happy. A father should want their child to go out into the world and make something of themselves, whatever that may be. A father shouldn't want their child to remain alone and unhappy just so his needs are attended to. If that is so important to Mr Bailey, then he too should hire a housekeeper. In fact, he'll bloody well have to, eventually."

She raised her eyebrows. "Really, and 'ow's that then?"

"Well because…just because," he replied, feeling momentarily flummoxed. It seemed obvious where his association with Lily would lead and yet, when he considered it, particularly in light of Tristan's comments on the subject, he couldn't help but feel a slight frisson of apprehension.

"Well I suppose you'll just 'ave to work 'ard at getting into 'is good graces then, won't you?"

"I told Lily I wanted her to come and assist me in the surgery. No doubt her father will have much to say about _that_."

"Assist you in what way?"

"With patients and their treatment."

"You mean, as in an actual _assistant?_ "

"Well, of sorts. Clearly she isn't formally qualified but there's no reason why she couldn't learn under my guidance."

"Tristan might have said much the same thing."

"No, he needs the rigours of discipline that, hopefully, university will provide. It's different with Lily, very different."

"And is this something that Lily 'erself _wants_ to do?"

"I believe so and I believe she would be good at it. There's no harm in showing her that there's more to life than household drudgery."

"Indeed…"

Instantly, he realised he had said the wrong thing, "My apologies Mrs Hall, I didn't mean that the way that it came out. Obviously there is nothing wrong with choosing that path, none at all. Where would I be without _you_ , for example?"

"Where indeed," she smiled generously. "Well, I wish I 'ad some sort of advice for you on 'ow to 'andle Tom Bailey, but as it is…

"No, I know…" he sighed. "I just hate seeing Lily so unhappy. I wish there was some way to make things better for her, right now at least."

"If I know you Siegfried Farnon, you'll think of something. 'aving 'er 'ere at the surgery with you would be a start. Nothing better than getting 'er out of that 'ouse as much as possible. I reckon she'll bloom before our very eyes."

It was a welcome thought, the image of Lily blooming in his company. He wanted to see her happy, enjoying herself, gaining satisfaction from something more than she normally would experience, wanted to see the smile that lit up her face when they were in each other's company…and he wanted to see the look in her eyes when he could tell that she desired him as much as he desired her.

"Well I don't know about you, Mrs Hall, but I'm rather fatigued," he said, getting to his feet. "I think I'll turn in for the evening."

"Goodnight Mr Farnon."

Her smile was knowing and, as he climbed the stairs towards his bedroom, Siegfried told himself that there was no possible way that she could have any idea what he was going to be thinking about once he got there.


	19. Chapter 19

**9 November 1931**

**Six weeks later**

"And so you see, the temperature of a cat is slightly higher than that of a human. 39C as opposed to our 37C. When Mrs Norris brought Donald in on the last occasion, he was febrile because his temperature was almost 40C. Now, that was as result of an abscess on his leg, but I did a full examination of his lymph nodes and his teeth in order to rule out anything else. Fortunately, we were able to bring the fever down and, hopefully, when he comes in today the abscess will have healed and he'll be back to his usual self." Siegfried paused from where had been looking at the notes spread out on the kitchen table. "Does that make sense?"

"Yes," Lily replied. "What did you give 'im to bring the fever down?"

"Well, I don't like giving animals medication if I can avoid it. I advised Mrs Norris to try and make sure he took plenty fluids and to watch his diet, along with dressing the abscess of course. I'm hoping that will have been enough." He paused as she smiled. "What?"

"Donald's quite a funny name for a cat."

"I suppose it is. What was your cat called again? The one you had as a child?"

"Powder. But that were because she was white, so it suited. I'm not sure 'ow you decide a cat suits the name Donald."

"Why is anyone called anything, I wonder. Why did your parents elect to call you Lily?"

"Me mother was called Rose and 'er sister was Daisy. I can only assume she talked me dad into calling me Lily to carry on the theme. I reckon 'e would 'ave preferred something like Bertha."

"Bertha?" he snorted. "I'm not sure that would have suited you as well as Lily does."

"What about you? Why were you christened Siegfried?"

"My mother was a huge fan of Richard Wagner, the composer. She used to listen to his operas apparently and, he in turn, had been inspired by the heroic character of German legend who, apparently, killed a dragon."

"'ow very impressive."

"Yes…he was, however, apparently later murdered as a result of a quarrel between his wife and another woman so I'm not _entirely_ sure how moralistic he could really claim to be."

"Unlike you."

"Well that's very kind of you to say." He slid his chair closer to her. "I have to say that I can think of much more enjoyable ways of spending my morning than talking about cats and their abscesses."

"And what might those more enjoyable ways entail?"

"This." He leaned over and kissed her gently, enjoying the sensation that flooded though him. It never ceased to delight him how receptive she was to everything, conversation, learning and, most of all, his touch. He loved how she would respond ardently on each and every occasion, how her mouth would work against his, her hands stray to touch him, her breath catch in her throat when he kissed her neck. In the time since they had begun courting, he had lost track of all the times they had been so close to one another. It was different in public, of course. Walking in the village, attending church or taking tea in the tearoom were occasions that leant themselves to a sense of propriety, dictating that nothing more than a brief kiss or a touch of the hand could, or should, be put on display. It was very different in private, however. When they would walk in the hills together, when weather permitted, or when they found themselves alone, either at Skeldale House or Windy Hill, it was impossible not to engage in behaviour much more fitting of a pair who clearly desired one another.

"Audrey will be back soon," she said, breaking away from him. "We don't want 'er coming in 'ere and finding us canoodling."

"Canoodling," he laughed, "what a word. Besides, I don't think Mrs Hall could be in _any_ doubt about the nature of our relationship. I tend to think that she makes enough food at every meal just on the off chance that you might join us."

"I 'ope I don't overstay me welcome," she said. "I suppose it's just…well…the welcome's a lot warmer 'ere than it is up at the farm."

It certainly wasn't an understatement. Lily had refrained from inviting him back to Windy Hill when she knew her father would be there, electing instead for occasions when he was otherwise occupied. Siegfried wasn't entirely sure what had been said between Lily and her father since the fateful dinner, but he had a fair idea that it wasn't anything she would like to revisit. Every time the subject was mentioned she always apologised for her father's behaviour and, every time, he told her that he didn't care.

And yet, he did. He _did_ care that Tom didn't seem to like him, for whatever reason. Rationally, he knew it wasn't personal, that no doubt the older man would dislike anyone he perceived to be attempting to take his daughter away, but it irked him that Tom refused to give him any sort of chance, not to mention the fact that the older man made him angry with his overall attitude and how it clearly affected Lily.

"You are more than welcome here, anytime. You should know that." He glanced at the clock. "Well, surgery will be due to start soon. Can I get you some tea before the masses descend?"

"I should be making tea for you," she laughed.

"Why?"

"Well…you're about to start a busy afternoon's work and…"

"And you're the woman?" he looked at her with mock severity. "I _am_ capable of making a pot of tea."

"I don't doubt it."

"You're just trying to get out of this."

"Out of what?"

"Of being at surgery. You've done fine on every other occasion over the last few months. I don't see why today should be any different." He raised his eyebrows. "You're not still concerned about what people might be saying, are you?" She looked away and he knew that was exactly what the issue was. When she had agreed to spend time with him at the surgery, he knew that she had thought she would simply be assisting, handing him instruments and the like. Instead, he had forced her to do examinations, read notes, provide advice, though always under his supervision and guidance. She had been nervous, of course, but he could also tell that after each patient had left, she had felt elated at what she, Lily, had accomplished. He loved seeing her like that, but he could also tell that she was wary, worried about how the villagers might gossip.

"Maybe a little," she replied.

"Why, for heavens sake? You haven't done anything wrong, in fact you've been quite wonderful. And it's not as if I'm just leaving you on your own to make diagnoses. Besides, I'm fairly sure that most of Darrowby will know by now that we're an item."

"Well that almost makes it worse, doesn't it? As if I'm using my connection with you to…to…"

"To what? To better yourself? Not, of course, that there is anything wrong with a woman being in the home, of course there isn't. But you are so very capable, and I won't see you throw that potential away because of what a few narrow-minded people might say." She looked at the floor. "Has someone said something, specifically?"

"It were only…" she sighed. "Mr Dinsdale made a comment to me dad the other day when 'e was up at the farm."

"What sort of comment?"

"Something that Mrs Dinsdale 'ad said. Something about me getting ideas above me station, or something like that at least. I know what Jean Dinsdale can be like but, well, it didn't elp, with anything."

"What did your father say?"

"Nowt. I think 'e were embarrassed but I don't rightly know. We don't say much to each other these days."

"Lily…" he stepped forwards and pulled her into his arms. "I'm so sorry. I've been thoughtless about this whole thing, haven't I? I've forced you to do something which, whilst I know you would be good at and enjoy, has only succeeded in causing you even more problems." He felt suddenly angry with himself for being so short-sighted. "I'm sorry, my darling, I never meant…"

"It's not you," she said, her voice muffled against his chest. "It's me. I thought that standing up to me dad in some small way, spending time with you whether 'e liked it or not, would force 'im to accept things 'ave changed, would force 'im to be different towards me."

"And they haven't."

"Well, they 'ave, but only insofar as to make living up there with 'im almost unbearable. Days can go by when we don't say a word to each other."

"You should have told me it was as bad as that," he sighed heavily. "Would you like me to speak to him?"

"No," she pulled back. "No, I reckon that would only make things worse. I don't know what 'e might say to you, but I can guess it wouldn't be pleasant and you don't deserve that. It's not…it's not your problem."

"I rather think it _is_ my problem," he said. "Besides, I'll have to speak to him sooner or later to ask him, won't I? There's not really any way to avoid it."

"Ask 'im what?"

He opened his mouth to respond when the front door banged, and the sound of footsteps indicated that Mrs Hall had returned. She came into the kitchen, laden down with shopping, and smiled broadly when she saw them. "'ello you two. Plotting together in advance of today's surgery?"

"Something like that," he replied as Lily turned away and wiped her eyes. "Do you have my list, Mrs Hall?"

"I gave it to you this morning. Don't tell me you've misplaced it already? Not that anything would surprise me. You've probably left it in the surgery, so I suggest you check there before turning the place upside down."

"Yes, quite…" he turned back to Lily. "Shall we?" She nodded and then followed him through to the surgery where they began preparing for the influx of patients. It was a routine he diligently carried out by himself on most occasions, but the times that she joined him, he had to admit that he enjoyed sharing it with someone, much as he envisioned he would in years to come once Tristan had gotten his act together. "Right then," he declared when everything was in place. "I think that's it. Shall we open the doors and see who's first?" She nodded. "Right then, off you go."

Lifting the list, which they had found laid on the side, Lily opened the surgery door and stepped out to where the first few patients were waiting. "Afternoon everyone," she said brightly, and he felt his heart instantly swell at how she could rise to the occasion, irrespective of what else was going on. "Right Mrs Norris, let's be 'aving you and Donald then."

XXXX

By the time the afternoon was over, Lily felt exhausted. It was surely no real ask of Siegfried to see so many and varied patients in one sitting but for her, as new to the whole thing as she was, she found her brain almost fit to explode by the end of it. Not to mention the fact that every person had given her a second look upon seeing her there to assist. She could tell what they were all thinking about her and despite Siegfried's constant reassurance, she still felt a little as though she didn't belong and that she would be far more suited to being in the kitchen with Mrs Hall.

She had to admit though, that she enjoyed learning about the different animals, recognising their ailments and discovering what treatment would be best, even more so than she thought she would. Some things that had seemed so foreign to her the first time she had accompanied him, now seemed slightly more familiar and when she could see something or make a correct guess at it, she couldn't help but feel pleased. The other, most enjoyable, part however was spending time with Siegfried, watching him work. He would smile at her encouragingly, discuss each patient with her afterwards and explain things in a way that she understood. She couldn't help but feel a strange sense of pride observing him not to mention the fact that every time he brushed against her, she felt her body react to his.

When he had raised the question of intimacy that afternoon in the hills she had been taken aback, felt nervous, frightened and embarrassed, but as the weeks passed and they spent more time together, she had to admit that it was something she thought about with increasing regularity. She was almost ashamed to admit that she had had thoughts of him tearing her clothes off and pinning her down on her bed. Then, she would laugh, realising that it would be all too unlike Siegfried to act in such a manner in any case.

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" he asked, breaking into her thoughts as the last patient left, satisfied with their animal's treatment.

"No, thank you," she replied. "I'd already planned what Dad and I were to be 'aving tonight so I'd best get back and see to it."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, not at all."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." She met his gaze thinking, not for the first time, how lucky she was.

"Well then, I have a full list tomorrow, so why don't you accompany me on my rounds? We could go for a spot of lunch in between calls."

"I really shouldn't be away for a second day running," she said, lifting her coat from the peg. "I've been neglecting the 'ousework as it is this month."

"Well surely a bit of dusting can wait?"

She smiled indulgently at him, "Said by a man who's never 'ad to concern 'imself with the mundane tasks of 'ousehold maintenance. Your meals are all put down in front of you and cleared away afterwards, your clothes are washed and pressed, your 'ouse is kept clean and tidy…who do you think does all that up at Windy Hill? You won't see me dad lift an apron, that's for sure."

"No, I suppose you're quite right. I suppose…well…I miss you when I don't see you, is all."

"I miss you too," she replied, stepping into him and allowing him to kiss her gently. "Maybe I could come out with you towards the end of the week."

"I shall hold you to that," he replied. "Shall I walk you to the van?"

"No, thank you. I need to pop and get a few bits before I 'ead 'ome. I'll see you soon," she leaned in and kissed him again before opening the front door and stepping out into the cold, late afternoon air. Shivering slightly, she pulled on her gloves and then made her way across the street towards the greengrocers, mentally ticking off in her head the things she knew she needed.

Mrs Collins, the greengrocer's wife, greeted her cordially enough, but she could feel the other woman's eyes raking over her, no doubt wondering to herself what would posses Siegfried Farnon, a respectable professional, to have her as some sort of assistant. She knew what they were all saying about her and some times it bothered her more than others. Sometimes, she fantasised about calling people out on it, asking them what the problem was, but she reckoned that would only make them talk more. Perhaps it had been a mistake agreeing to help at the surgery and, yet, she derived so much pleasure out of it that it seemed foolish to give it up.

Once she had what she required, she headed back to the van ands lowly began making her way back up to Windy Hill. As she drove into the yard and pulled to a stop, she felt a sudden darkness descend upon her, the way it always did when she had to return home from time spent with Siegfried. It had been no word of a lie when she had told him that things were difficult between her and her father. It had only gotten worse since he had been for dinner. Tom swayed between wounded silence and jealous anger, neither of which was pleasant and, more often than not, she would lay in bed at nights, tears running down her cheeks at the unfairness of it. At times, she had considered that it might be easier all round if she just gave up on all hope of love and happiness and went back to the way things had been before. But she knew she couldn't, not now, and truthfully didn't really want to.

"You took your time," Tom said, meeting her at the kitchen door.

"I came back as soon as I could. I 'ad to pick up some things on the way." She kept her tone as light as she could and simply made her way into the kitchen, placing the bag on the table before turning to take off her coat and retrieve her apron. "Dinner won't be long, don't worry."

"Enjoy yourself, did you?" he came up behind her and leaned in close. "Enjoy playing at being little miss veterinarian?"

The smell of alcohol hit her quite suddenly and she turned to meet his gaze. "'ave you been drinking?"

"What's it to you?"

"Dad…"

"This is _my_ farm and I'll do what I like, my lady. If you can't be bothered to be 'ere, then that's your problem."

"You shouldn't be drinking if you're driving that tractor, or working with the beasts," she said, putting her hands on her hips. "What if you 'ad 'ad an accident?"

"Would you care?" he sneered.

"Of course, I would care! 'ow can you even suggest that I wouldn't?"

"Because you're never 'ere. You're always away out with your fancy man, running all over the village and acting better than everybody else!"

Anger flared inside her, not to mention insecurity. Did everyone in Darrowby really think that of her? "That is _not_ true!"

"Of course, it's true! Don't you 'ear what people say about you? Henry's wife were right in what she said the other day. You…look at you…" he eyed her distastefully, swaying slightly as he did so, indicating he was far drunker than she had first thought. "No doubt you're going to tell me all about 'ow you were treating dogs and cats today and making them all better."

"Why would I bother? You're not interested, are you?"

"No, I'm not! I want you 'ere, doing what you're supposed to be doing! What you were born to do!"

"And what's that then? Cook your dinner? Wash pots? Clean clothes?"

"Exactly!"

"Why don't you want me to be 'appy?!"

"Because your place is 'ere!"

The fragile bonds of her sanity, that had slowly started to fray when he began his tirade, suddenly snapped completely. "Keeping _you_ 'appy, isn't that it? You don't want anything to change! You never 'ave done since Mam died and you want to keep me 'ere like a prisoner doing everything for you so that you don't 'ave to accept that you're on your own! So that you don't 'ave to accept any responsibility for yourself! Well, what about me, Dad?! What about me?! What about what _I_ want?! Just because you lost your wife doesn't mean that I shouldn't ever get to find out what it's like to be one meself!" She felt the tears start to run down her face but did nothing to check them. Maybe seeing how much he was hurting her would make him realise…something.

"Asked you to marry 'im, 'as 'e?"

"No…"

"No, and I wager 'e won't, given that 'e's probably got everything 'e wants out of you. 'e already 'as someone to keep 'is 'ouse and now 'e's got you playing at being 'is assistant and warming 'is bed for 'im!"

She stared at him, open-mouthed. "Is that what you've been telling folk?"

"Why would _I_ say that to anyone? Do you think I want folk thinking my lass is the local vet's whore?!"

"You're…you're disgusting!" she exclaimed, shocked at the crudity of his words, and threw her apron down onto the table.

"I'm not the one lying on 'er back and opening 'er legs for the first man to show a bit of interest in 'er!"

"I don't 'ave to listen to this!" Turning, she made for the door, only for him to cross the room, with almost inexplicable speed given his inebriation, and grab her arm. "Let go of me!"

"You're not going anywhere, my lady! You're staying right 'ere!"

Though he had always been a strong and capable man, he appeared to be almost energised by his alcohol intake and spun her around before throwing her back into the wall. She hit it full force, the breath knocked from her body, and as she fought for air, he advanced upon her again. "Dad…please…"

"You belong 'ere!" he roared, grabbing her by the arms and shaking her violently. "This is where you belong! Do you 'ear me?! You belong 'ere! You belong 'ere!" With each protestation, he thumped her back against the wall, her head striking it repeatedly. "You belong 'ere!"

"Dad…" she could hear her voice, small and tinny to her own ears, as he continued to hit her against the wall. "Dad…stop…please…"

Suddenly, he stopped what he was doing, his face inches from her own, his eyes bloodshot and white spittle at the corners of his mouth. The anger drained from his face to be replaced with a look of horror and he instantly released her. With no support, she found herself sliding down the wall to the floor with a thud and, looking up, saw him backing away from her towards the door.

"Lily…" he said, "Lily…my girl I'm…I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…"

She felt her vision blur and a sudden dull ache start in her head. She tried to move, to get to her feet, to do…something…but she couldn't seem to control her hands or arms and her body instead began to shake.

"Lily…" Tom moved towards her again. "Oh Lily, please…please forgive me lass, please…" he crouched in front of her and reached out, but she found herself cowering away from him, though she couldn't seem to find the words to warn him away. "I'm so sorry, lass, I'm so sorry…" He got to his feet again and stood, awkwardly staring down at her. "I'll…I'll just let you sort yourself…yes…that's what I'll do…" then he turned and hurried from the room.

Once alone, she felt the breath leave her body in one shuddering movement and when she gingerly drew her fingers down from the back of her head, saw that they were stained with blood.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone reading, leaving kudos and reviews. It means so much to me!

She stood at the sitting room door, her body still shaking from the effects of what had just happened. All she could do was look at him, sat by the fire, a glass in his hand. A pathetic figure, someone she now realised she had little respect for. There was no sound save the ticking of the clock in the corner and the crackle of the burning wood.

"'ow could you do that?" she heard herself ask, her voice trembling over the words. "'ow could you do that to me, Dad?"

"It were…it were a mistake…" he replied, his face turned away from her. "I never meant to 'urt you."

"But you did. You did 'urt me, Dad. You grabbed me and threw me against the wall and you…" she broke off, not sure she could continue. "Why? What 'ave I ever done to you except take care of you and…and do everything that you've ever asked of me? Why Dad?" He stayed silent. "Did you 'it Mam?"

"No!" his face flew round, and his gaze meant hers. "I loved your mother and I never laid an 'and on 'er!"

"So, it's just me then? Don't you love me too?"

"Of course I do. You know I do, lass."

"Do I? Then why?" She could feel the tears threatening to come and she willed them away. This wasn't a time for weak feminine emotion. This was a time for her to be strong, to tell him how she really felt, to make a change. "Why are you so upset and angry at the thought of me being 'appy?"

"'appy…" he shook his head as though the suggestion was ludicrous. "Are you 'appy?"

"Yes."

"With 'im?"

"Yes. You said before that 'e wasn't for me. What did you mean by that?" He said nothing. "Dad?"

"I only meant…I only meant that 'e's…and you're…"

"What? 'e's a gentleman with a profession and I'm just a stupid girl who lives on a farm and cooks and cleans for a selfish old man? Is that what you meant? You think that I'm not good enough for 'im? I 'ave to say, that's a strange position to take, is it not? I thought most fathers would think a man not good enough for 'is daughter, not the other way round."

"I don't want you getting 'urt, Lily."

"More than I 'ave been tonight?"

Tom sighed. "'e's trying to make you into something you're not."

"And what's that?"

"Well…you're not a vet, are you? And you never will be. 'e's putting fancy ideas in your 'ead and…"

"So, you think I'm too stupid to learn anything?"

"That's not what I said…"

"No, because you don't think that at all, do you? This 'as got nothing to do with what I've been doing down at Skeldale House, or out at the local farms. This is about you, looking at the life you've got in front of you and realising that I might not be in it in the way I always 'ave been for much longer!"

He met her gaze again. "You said 'e 'asn't asked you to marry 'im."

"Not yet, but 'e will."

"Sure about that, are you?"

She paused on his words, knowing she was as sure as a woman could be without the question being asked. It was obvious in her interactions with Siegfried that there was more to their relationship than friendship, much more, and she knew him well enough to know that he wasn't someone to trifle with a woman's affections with no intention of making a commitment, especially not after how he had tortured himself over his late wife. "Yes, I'm sure."

"Well then."

"Well then, what?" She stepped fully into the sitting room and stood in front of the fire. "You don't want me to marry 'im, do you? Not because you think 'e's too good for me, but because you don't want anything to change."

"And what's wrong with that?!" he exclaimed. "We 'ave a nice life 'ere, Lily, a good life…"

"You mean, _you_ do. You 'ave the run of the place. You do what you want, when you want and I'm just someone who runs along behind you keeping the place clean and tidy, washing your clothes and cooking your meals. That's all you think I'm good for. You've never thought about letting me do anything else."

"If you're talking about working the land…"

"I am!"

"You don't 'ave to! That's what _I'm_ 'ere for! That's _my_ role and being in 'ere is _your_ role."

"That might be 'ow you think Dad, but it's not 'ow I think. Not anymore. You lived through the war. You saw 'ow women rose to the occasion when the menfolk couldn't. If I'd been any age to do it, I could 'ave been in the WRENS or something."

"The WRENS…" he snorted and shook his head. "Bunch of air 'eads."

She shook her head contemptuously. "You really do 'ave a low opinion of women, don't you?"

"Don't you put words in my mouth, lady. That isn't what I said." He sighed. "The world is a frightening place, Lily. I wouldn't be any father at all if I didn't feel better knowing that you were 'ere, under my roof, where I can look after you."

"Look after me?" She couldn't help but laugh at the irony. "What's the difference me being under your roof and me being under Siegfried's roof? I'll tell you what the difference is. It's because if I marry 'im, you'll be left 'ere on your own and you can't stand that thought, isn't that right?" Her head started to ache, and she gently put her hand on the back of it, wincing as she did so, well aware that something had changed so irrevocably in the last hour or so. "Well, you'll 'ave to get used to it, won't you? If you're that desperate for company and 'aving all your chores done, we can 'ire an 'ousekeeper for you."

"And 'ave some stranger in 'ere, looking about and touching my things?"

"Unless you think you could manage to do everything 'ere yourself." He looked away. "No, I didn't think so." With a sigh, she sat down on the couch. "I'm almost twenty-nine years old, Dad. You were long married to Mam by my age. Don't you think I deserve to know some of the 'appiness you 'ad with 'er? Don't you like the idea of 'aving grandchildren?" He looked at her sideways. "And before you say anything, I 'ave never lain with 'im, despite your disgusting suggestion."

His face coloured. "That were the drink."

"Was it? Or was it what you really think of me, of Siegfried? If 'e's the gentleman that you believe 'im to be, do you really think 'e would be so disrespectful?" She sighed heavily. "Things 'ave got to change, Dad, whether you like it or not."

"'ow do you mean?"

"I mean…I'm going to continue to see Siegfried and, if 'e asks me to marry 'im, I'm going to say yes and I'm going to leave 'ere and be with 'im as 'is wife."

"And that's all there is to it?"

"Yes," she paused. "And I'd like to think, if 'e asks your permission to ask me to marry 'im, that you'll give it. Not that I need it."

He said nothing, simply turned his gaze back to the fire before slowly draining the remaining whisky from his glass. She had expected more from him, more of a fight or an argument. Given what had happened earlier, she had almost expected him to react physically and yet he gave no signs of intending to act that way. As they sat in poised silence, she wondered if he might, in fact, give her his blessing.

"Aye well…" he said finally. "I suppose we'll see."

"I suppose we will."

"'e still loves 'is wife, you know. I saw in 'is eyes when 'e were 'ere. Don't kid yourself that you can replace 'er."

His words stung, more than she knew they should, but stung nevertheless. "I don't expect 'im _not_ to love 'is wife."

"And you can be second best, can you? Because that's all you can ever be to a man who's suffered loss like that."

It was something that she still thought about from time to time. Despite Siegfried's protestations to the contrary, there was still a small part of her that wondered if he was comparing her to Evelyn and, if so, whether she would be found wanting. Not that it was something that she wanted to share with her father. She touched the back of her head again. "I'll 'ave to go see Dr Bellamy in the morning, just in case I need a stitch or something."

"Are you going to tell 'im what 'appened?"

She paused again, wondering if he would try to talk her out of it if she said yes. If she _did_ tell the doctor, would he believe her and did she even want people to know that things had become so bad between herself and her father that he had resorted to violence? Folk were already talking about her, why give them more? "No. I'll tell 'im I slipped and fell."

"What about 'im?"

"'im who?"

"Farnon. Are you going to tell 'im?"

The answer to that question was more straightforward, not because she didn't want to tell him, didn't want to share it with him, but because she didn't want him to feel as though he was somehow the cause of it and, despite not believing him to be a man who would do so, didn't want him to confront her father over it. "No," she said instantly. "I'll tell 'im the same story." Getting to her feet, she felt the room sway slightly and the pounding start again in her head. "I'll go and finish making the dinner now, shall I?"

"Aye."

"Right then." Leaving the sitting room, she walked back into the kitchen and lifted her apron, previously discarded on the table. Mechanically, she set about doing the tasks she had intended to do when she first came home and yet, she felt so different now, almost as though what had happened had caused a weight to be lifted from her shoulders.

Things were going to be so different from now on.

XXXX

"Mr Farnon, it's for you."

Siegfried looked up from where he had been reading the newspaper. He had heard the vague ringing of the telephone but had been so absorbed in what he had been doing that he had had no concept of actually seeking to answer it. "Something wrong?"

"No, it's Lily."

"Oh, right." Getting up from the chair, he hurried into the hallway and lifted the discarded receiver. "Hello?"

"It's me."

"Yes, Mrs Hall said. Is everything all right?"

"Yes, everything's fine. I…I just wanted to 'ear your voice, that's all."

Her tone made him pause slightly. It wasn't that he could detect anything was wrong, but there was definitely something different in the way she was speaking. "Well, that's lovely to hear. I always like hearing your voice." He waited, but she said nothing. "Are you sure everything's all right?"

"Yes, everything's fine. I was actually wondering if I could come out with you on your calls tomorrow after all."

"Of course you can. I'd be delighted to have you with me, but I thought you said you needed to be at home?"

"I did, but…well…another day out won't 'urt. 'ave you got a full list?"

"Yes, as usual. The Salters, the Calverts, old Mr Brown…we'll be kept going."

"Perhaps we could 'ave lunch too, as you suggested?"

"Indeed we could. Have a think on where you might like to go."

"I will." She paused. "Siegfried?"

"Yes?"

"I wanted to say…I mean, I _think_ I want to say…no, in fact, I _do_ want to say…"

"Say what?"

"I love you."

It wasn't what he had been expecting her to say and he found himself completely taken aback. He knew the strength of his own feelings and yet there hadn't been a moment where it had seemed natural to express them to her. Perhaps he had almost been afraid to, in case she hadn't felt the same way and yet…part of him also couldn't help but think that he should have been the one to say it first and yet, hearing it from her, gladdened his heart more than he could ever have thought possible.

"I'm sorry…" she broke into his thoughts. "Perhaps I shouldn't 'ave…"

"No," he interrupted her. "No, I'm glad you did, so very glad. I love you too, my darling. I'm only sorry I haven't told you before. I should have, so many times and I promise that I shall from now on, regularly. Are you all right?" he paused suddenly at what he imagined was the sound of her weeping. "Lily?"

"I'm fine," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "I'm just…just 'appy, that's all."

He suddenly felt a desperate need to see her, a need to hold her in his arms and comfort her, whether she be happy or sad or anything else. Glancing at the clock, he saw that it was almost eight o'clock. "Do you want me to come to you?"

"No," she said hurriedly. "No, I'm fine, really I am. I just…like I said I just wanted to 'ear your voice and…and tell you 'ow I felt."

"I'm very glad that you did. I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Yes, tomorrow. Goodnight."

"Goodnight darling."

Replacing the receiver, he wandered back into the sitting room where Mrs Hall was putting down the supper tray onto the table. "Everything all right?" she smiled at him in a way that could only lead him to believe that she had overheard some of the conversation.

"Yes, everything's fine. She's going to come out on my rounds with me tomorrow."

"Oh, that'll be nice for both of you."

"Yes, it will," he agreed. "It certainly will."

**10 November**

"You shall have to be more careful little Lily," Dr Bellamy tutted as he examined the wound on the back of her head. "This could have been a nasty one. How did you say it happened again?"

"I slipped coming in the back door," she lied, glad that he wasn't looking at her face in case her expression gave her deception away. "The step was slippery and before I knew where I was, I was on the ground."

"Did you lose consciousness at all?"

"No."

"Well, that's something at least. I'm sorry," he said as she winced. "I can see how that would hurt. It doesn't look as though it needs stitching though. I would recommend salty water simply to clean it out but otherwise, all you can do is leave it to heal."

"So, I don't need to put a bandage on it or anything like that?"

"No, not unless you want to draw attention to it." He sat back down in front of her. "Your father must have got quite a fright too."

"I suppose 'e did," she replied, looking away.

"Have you experienced any headaches or blurred vision?"

"It 'urt last night after it 'appened, but it's not as bad today."

"Well, that's something. I can prescribe you something in case you do have any pain, but really all I can advise is taking it easy. I would suggest that you go straight home and rest."

"Oh, I can't do that, not today. I'm accompanying Mr Farnon on his calls."

"Ah, yes…" he paused. "I was given to understand that you were doing some work at the surgery. I take it you find it interesting?"

"Very much so." She held his gaze defiantly, almost willing him to say something so that she could retaliate. "I'm learning a lot too."

"Well, that's most admirable. Most admirable indeed. I shall have to remember to ask for you next time I need Monty looked at."

"Monty?"

"Our dog. Mrs Bellamy's pride and joy." He smiled. "Well, unless there's anything else…"

"No, thank you." She rose to her feet and headed for the door, buoyed slightly by his reaction to her revelation. Perhaps people weren't talking about her in the way she imagined. Either that, or he was too polite to say anything remotely unkind to her face, aside from calling her 'little Lily' as usual.

"There you are," Mrs Hall said, opening the door upon her knock. "'e was beginning to think you weren't coming."

"Nothing's wrong, is it?" she asked, stepping inside.

"No, no, just Mr Farnon being Mr Farnon. Two more got added to the list last night. The poor man's in danger of running 'imself ragged."

"I'm not really much help either. 'e probably could better use the time 'e takes explaining things to me. Maybe I should tell 'im that I'll not bother coming this time."

"Maybe you'll do no such thing," Mrs Hall said sternly, gesturing towards the surgery. "If there's anyone can put 'im in a more pleasant mood, it's you."

Lily knocked on the surgery door, opening it when Siegfried barked at her to come in. "Is this a bad time?" she asked, stepping inside. He looked up from the notes he was perusing and though his expression was one of annoyance more than anything else, she noticed it soften slightly upon seeing her. "I'm sorry I'm late."

"You're here now," he said. "It's just that we've got a very busy day ahead of us."

"Mrs Hall said. Maybe I should let you go on your own."

"Why?"

"Because you would be quicker without me there, wouldn't you? You could probably fit more calls in if you didn't 'ave to explain things to me as we went along."

"And let you get out of it? Not a chance."

"Get out of what?"

"Coming out with me. I know you still feel nervous about it but you've done fine on the last few occasions and the only way that you'll become more confident is by doing it." He paused and peered at her. "You look very pale this morning, are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she replied.

"Are you sure?" he came around the examination table to stand in front of her.

"Yes, it's just…" she found her hand straying to her head and though she hadn't intended telling him anything at all, found that under his gaze, she wanted to tell him everything, even if it was the sanitised version. "I was seeing Dr Bellamy, that's why I'm late."

"Nothing's wrong, is it?" he stepped forward, his arms going around her waist. "You're not ill?"

"No, no, it's…"

"Is it your monthly again?"

"No, I 'ad an accident last night, that's all. I slipped and hit me 'ead on the floor." Lowering her head, she gestured to the wound. "I was just letting the doctor take a look at it."

"Good heavens!" he exclaimed, pulling her towards the light at the window to allow himself a better look. "That looks incredibly nasty. How on earth did you manage that?"

"It were slippery and me feet just went from under me."

"What did Dr Bellamy say?"

"To use salt water and to let it 'eal. Not much else 'e could say. I thought it might need stitching but 'e said not."

"No, it's doesn't look deep enough for that…" he examined it carefully. "But when did this happen?"

"Last night, as I said."

"Yes, after we spoke?"

"I…"

"I mean, had it been before, surely you would have told me." He looked at her earnestly and though she hated telling him untruths, she knew she had to remain resolute in keeping her father out of it.

"Yes, it was afterwards. I was just putting some rubbish out when I fell. It's not a big deal. I feel fine now."

"You should have told me!" he exclaimed. "You should have rung me back. I would have come up straightaway."

"There was no need. It was just an accident."

"But still…I'm sorry," he sighed. "I shouldn't have spoken harshly to you when you came in."

"You weren't to know, and it doesn't make any difference in any case."

"Yes, it does. I've been snapping at Mrs Hall all morning. I _know_ I should be grateful for all the work I have, but sometimes it can seem almost insurmountable."

"You're only one man," she said encouragingly, putting her hand on his arm. "You can't be expected to do everything yourself.

"Which is why I need you."

"I'm 'ardly going to 'elp take the load off."

"Not now, perhaps, but in the future." He pulled her to him again. "Just imagine it, the two of us working here together. Well, the three of us, I suppose. I can't forget Tristan, otherwise what has all the aggravation been for? I can see it now. Three Farnons' all under one roof."

She felt butterflies start in her stomach. "I'm…not a Farnon."

"No," he agreed, meeting her gaze. "Not yet at least."

"Not…not yet?"

He kissed her before she could say anything, a long, deep kiss that seemed to convey so much and promise so much more. Her body reacted to him and she pressed herself closer to him, enjoying the sensation of his arms around her. If he were to ask her now, in that moment, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she would accept.

"Lily…" he breathed when they broke apart. "I want to…"

"Mr Farnon," the surgery door flew open and Mrs Hall appeared, looking harassed. "I'm sorry to interrupt but Mr Brown's been on the phone twice in the last ten minutes. 'e said you were meant to be there 'alf an 'our ago."

"Yes, yes you're quite right, Mrs Hall, so I was." He looked at her again. "Shall we go?"

Lily nodded, not quite sure that she trusted herself to speak. It was happening or, rather, it was going to happen. He was going to ask her. Maybe not right at that moment, but sometime soon. He was going to ask her to be his wife.

Mrs Farnon.

It sounded good.


	21. Chapter 21

**23 November 1931**

"Well you could sound a little more thrilled at the prospect."

"Sorry, what?" Siegfried glanced up from where he had been perusing the notebook by the side of the telephone as Tristan's irritated tone resounded in his ear. "More thrilled at what prospect, exactly?"

"At the prospect of me coming home in two weeks."

"Oh yes, of course. That. Well of course I'm thrilled at the prospect. It'll be good to see you again, especially for Christmas."

"Yes…am I keeping you from something or…someone?"

Siegfried felt himself blush at his brother's knack of being able to tell precisely what he was thinking about being, in that moment, Lily. Over the noise of Tristan's ramblings about university, he couldn't help but hear the peals of laughter coming from the kitchen where she and Mrs Hall were enjoying a morning cup of tea. "Lily is here, yes."

"Of course she is. Now, come on big brother, the hour is fast approaching."

"What hour?" he glanced at the clock to see it was almost ten am. "Unless you think something momentous is supposed to happen when the clock strikes ten then I fail to see…"

"Siegfried…" Tristan sighed. "To put it bluntly, when are you going to ask Lily to marry you?"

"Ah, yes, that."

"That."

"Well, what you don't seem to understand, Tristan, is that it's a somewhat delicate matter." Over the course of the preceding two weeks there had been a number of moments when he had thought it an ideal time to ask her the question and yet something, or someone, had always come along and spoiled it. He knew he would have asked her that day in the surgery had Mrs Hall not interrupted with tales of Mr Brown. Then there had been a pleasant Sunday stroll around the village in the crisp afternoon sunshine that had lit her hair like fire, and he had been about to ask when there had been a sudden commotion over two dogs chasing a cat. Finally, she had stayed for dinner one evening after helping with surgery and as they had sat in the sitting room together in front of the roaring fire, Mrs Hall knowingly keeping herself to the kitchen, again he had been poised to ask when the telephone had rung with someone needing a cow urgently examined. In all honesty, he had started to think that the moment was cursed.

"In what sense? You look her deep in the eyes and say…'Lily, will you marry me?' What could be more straightforward than that?"

"Well, there are other complications. Besides, you don't just ask a woman to marry you."

"Don't you? How else do you go about it?"

"You're supposed to ask her father first."

"Oh, I see."

"Yes…" Siegfried sighed as he thought of the prospect, as he had done so often of late. Despite his intentions to simply ask Lily, and not care what her father might think or say, he had enough propriety within him to realise that he at least owed the man the common courtesy of a conversation. Though he didn't consider himself cowardly by nature, there was most definitely an inherent fear that rose within him every time he imagined facing Tom Bailey and asking him for Lily's hand. When he questioned himself as to what the fear entailed, more often than not it came down to Tom perhaps refusing to give his permission, and though Lily could legally marry without her father's consent, he rather feared that she wouldn't go against him.

"Well I'm sure you'll think of some way of winning him around," Tristan said. "Anyway, I must dash, a few of us are going out for an early lunch."

"Don't you have lectures?"

"Not until this afternoon. It's a great lark this university life. Anyway, speak soon brother."

He had gone before Siegfried could say any more and he carefully replaced the receiver before heading back into the kitchen. "There certainly seems to be a lot of humour in your conversation this morning," he observed as both women stifled giggles at his arrival.

Lily looked up and met his gaze. "Sometimes a little gossip goes a long way."

"Really?" he raised his eyebrow, "and here was me thinking you were _concerned_ about gossip."

"Gossip about _other people_ ," she clarified.

"Indeed…" he sat down and poured himself some tea from the pot on the table. "I hope you'll remain in that frame of mind during our calls this morning."

"You said you had observed that I was _less_ concerned about what others say of late."

"I did and I am, though I confess to still being none the wiser as to your sudden change of heart." She smiled and looked away, once again to his mind deliberately avoiding the issue. Over the last few weeks, there had been a noticeable shift in her overall attitude. She had seemed, somehow, more light-hearted, less caring about what her father or other people thought about her being at the surgery. Though the change was both welcome and refreshing, it did confuse him. "In any event," he continued. "I'm looking forward to us spending the day together."

"As am I."

"Listen to you two…" Mrs Hall smiled over her cup. "It's like Mills and Boon."

"Oh please!" he exclaimed. "I remain utterly baffled why a woman of your religiosity indulges in such drivel."

"'ave you ever read any?" Lily asked.

"What do you think?"

"Then you're not really qualified to comment, are you?"

"You're not saying that _you_ read them too?" he looked at her.

"Why not? It's just a bit of 'armless escapism, isn't it, Audrey?"

"Exactly," Mrs Hall replied. "Lord knows we all need a bit of that every now and again."

"Well _Mills and Boon_ are hardly going to expand your mind, are they? I have a vast array of books that you're welcome to borrow any time…"

"And I 'ave, if you recall," Lily interrupted him. "But sometimes, you just need something a little bit more…engaging."

He shook his head and drained his cup, hoping to cover up the slight embarrassment the conversation had caused him. From everything he had heard, the contents of _Mills and Boon_ books were, quite frankly, scandalous. "Well, we'd better get to it if we're going to make all these calls before the end of the day."

"Yes sir," she got to her feet and grinned at him. "Ready when you are."

They walked companionably out to his car and as he made his way through the village towards the outskirts, and the destination of their first call, she calmly placed her hand on his leg. When he looked over, she was smiling at him and, though her touch thrilled him, he still felt confused by her apparent change in attitude.

"It's your birthday next month, isn't it?" he said, breaking the silence.

"Well remembered."

"I was wondering what you might like as a gift."

"I get to choose, do I?"

"Of course." He glanced over at her. "Is there something specific that you'd like?"

She smiled and shook her head, removing her hand in the process. "I'm not needing anything."

"Well I can appreciate that, but birthdays are about wants, are they not, rather than needs?"

"I suppose so." She paused. "Whatever you see fit to buy me, I'm sure I'll be delighted."

"Will you?"

"Of course."

"I would hate to choose something inappropriate."

"Such as what?"

"Well, I…I don't know. It's been a long time since I've had to buy a present for a woman, any woman. Evelyn liked scarves so, I confess, I used to buy her one every birthday and Christmas during the time we were together. I'm sure she grew weary of them, but she never said if she did."

"I'm sure she appreciated every single one."

"I hope so," he replied, seeing his late wife in his mind's eye, but with a warm regard rather than a sad regret.

"I like scarves too if it makes it any easier for you. And 'ats."

"Hats?" she nodded. "Well that's something to think on. What about…what about jewellery?"

"Well, I don't really rightly own much. Dad passed me mother's wedding ring onto me a few years ago and I've got a few broaches and necklaces and the like. Nothing too fancy, mind."

"Perhaps we need to change that."

"Oh…I'm not one for glittery things," she laughed and looked out of the window.

"Well, every woman deserves at least one glittery thing, don't you agree?"

She turned back to meet his gaze and he couldn't help but wonder if she knew what he was alluding to. Surely she must, after all, hadn't he said about 'three Farnons' working together under one roof? What other conclusion could be drawn from that other than that he intended to marry her?

"I suppose so," she replied carefully.

"Well then," he said, swinging the car into the yard of the Rudd farm. "At least we agree on something."

XXXX

Dick Rudd and his wife were kind people, Lily had to admit. They were one of the few who hadn't raised an eyebrow when she had started accompanying Siegfried on his calls or expressed words of hesitation when she assisted him with anything. The first time they had visited, Linda Rudd had offered her tea and cake in the kitchen whilst Siegfried was examining one of their cows, but he had quickly stepped in and said that she was there to assist him, and nothing more had been said. It was simply accepted, and for that she was grateful.

Siegfried had been right in what he had said earlier. She _had_ had a change of heart regarding what people thought of her and actually felt all the happier for doing so. She only wished it had come out of happier circumstances. In the same way as she had resolved to no longer allow her father to dictate her future, so she had also resolved to let go the feelings of inadequacy that she felt regarding her work with Siegfried. If people wished to talk about her then that was their problem. She was tired of constantly feeling as though she had to justify her existence and her association with him. Besides, if he were to propose, which she was almost certain he would, it would no longer matter.

"So, what do you think?" Siegfried's voice broke into her reverie and she looked at him before looking back at the cow he was examining.

"She seems very listless," she replied, moving to the cow's head and running her hand over its face. "'er ears are cold and 'er nose is dry."

"Yes…"

"What about 'er 'eart rate?"

He held out his stethoscope. "Why don't you check?"

Feeling a slight nervousness in her stomach and acutely aware that she was being watched, she took it from him, slipped the buds into her ears and then pressed it to the cow's side. For a moment, all she could hear was her own heart beating wildly in her chest then, slowly, she felt the heart of the animal reverberate in her ears. "It's very fast," she said, straightening up again.

"That's what I thought," Siegfried said. "And you said she had been constipated, Dick?"

"That's right, terrible like," Dick replied.

"Well?"

She racked her brain, thinking about the books she had read that _weren't_ Mills and Boon. "Could be…could be milk fever?"

Siegfried smiled at her. "Exactly what I was thinking."

Relief flooded her at having made the correct diagnosis and she smiled in return. It felt good, really good, and she couldn't help but feel that perhaps it wasn't such a ridiculous idea after all that she work with Siegfried. Perhaps his dream of 'three Farnons' under one roof wasn't so fanciful.

As they drove back to Darrowby, the last call having been made, and he chatted beside her, she felt her mind wander. She wondered how he would ask her. Would he come right out and say it, or would there be some elaborate ruse behind it? She couldn't help but hope for the former. Simple, to the point, from the heart. Everything she had ever wanted and more.

"I could have dropped you at Windy Hill rather than bring you back here," he said, pulling to a stop outside Skeldale House.

"Then 'ow would I 'ave got the van 'ome?"

"True…" he looked over at her. "You did very well today."

"I've got a very competent teacher."

" _I've_ got a very eager student…" he leaned over and kissed her before pulling back. "Are you sure it's all right for me to come over on Saturday night?"

"Of course," she replied. "And we'll 'ave the place to ourselves given me dad's going to visit Cousin Joe." It was something that she had been looking forward to since the moment her father had announced it. His second visit of the year to Cousin Joe. She would have the entire house to herself and she had wasted no time in inviting Siegfried for dinner. They would be alone together, completely alone. Perhaps…perhaps he might ask her then…

"Well, as long as you're sure your father won't mind."

"I don't give a toss whether 'e minds or not," she said stridently. "Really, I don't."

"I can tell." He paused. "You would tell me if something had happened, wouldn't you?"

She paused on his look. "'ow do you mean?"

"Well, I can't help but notice that things seem to have changed lately. You're far more…dismissive of your father and his thoughts on our relationship than you ever were before and…well…I suppose I just find it a little strange, is all."

"Aren't you 'appy?"

"Well of course I am. I'm delighted that you don't seem to be as, I suppose, fearful of his reaction any longer but, well…"

"I'm done with my father dictating my life to me," she said. "I'm a grown woman and if I choose to spend my time with you, socially or at the surgery, then that is _my_ business, not 'is." She paused, aware that the change _would_ seem strange given he wasn't in possession of all the facts, and she was still unwilling to divulge them. "We've reached an understanding, 'e and I."

"Oh, I see. Well, that's good. I confess that I enjoy seeing you as happy as you seem to be."

"I'm very 'appy," she leaned over and kissed him. "Very 'appy indeed."

"Well then," he smiled. "I'll see you again soon. Thursday, you're going to come back and assist?" She nodded. "I look forward to it."

"As do I. Goodnight."

"Goodnight darling." She opened the car door, closed it and then started walking in the direction of the van. "Lily?" She turned at the sound of her name to see him standing beside the car. "I love you."

"I love you too," she replied, before waving quickly and continuing on her way. It gave her such a joyous feeling inside, not only knowing that he loved her as he did, but that he was quite prepared to proclaim it in the street for anyone to hear. _The only thing that could feel more wonderful_ , she thought to herself as she climbed into the van, _would be knowing that we never have to live apart._

XXXX

After they had eaten dinner, Siegfried and Mrs Hall retired to the sitting room, her to do some darning and he, ostensibly, to read the newspaper. Yet he found that his mind was elsewhere, focused on Lily and the future they would have together. He _had_ to ask her, _needed_ to ask her, but it was one of those things that a person was often afraid to do lest the answer they get destroy the hopeful anticipation. Not that he believed Lily would refuse him, but he wasn't sure he could bear the heartache if she, in fact, did.

"What are you thinking about?" Mrs Hall broke into his thoughts and he started slightly.

"Oh, nothing. Nothing really."

"I've been around you long enough to recognise a lie when I 'ear it."

"Well it's just…" he hesitated, aware that it would be entirely improper to confide in her and yet, almost desperate for another sensible perspective on the matter, Tristan notwithstanding. "I'm going to ask Lily to marry me."

Mrs Hall dropped her darning and grinned broadly at him. "And it's about time too!"

"You think so?"

"Of course I do! She's a lovely lass who clearly cares a great deal about you and it's obvious 'ow you feel about 'er."

"Is it?"

"Oh, come now Mr Farnon," she chided him. "If you 'aven't been in love with that lass for months now then I'm a monkey's uncle. It's written plain on your face every time you're with 'er. I think it's _wonderful,_ really I do. 'ave you decided when you're going to do it?"

"Well, there have been a number of occasions when I thought I might, but then…" he trailed off, unwilling to cite her as one of the reasons why the proposal had not gone ahead before now. "I was thinking about asking her on Saturday night, over dinner at Windy Hill."

"Well, that sounds lovely. And you'll be on your own so Tom Bailey won't be around to spoil it. 'ave you…'ave you thought about whether or not you're going to ask 'is permission?"

He sighed heavily, "I know it's what society dictates…"

"But?"

"But Lily's a grown woman, almost twenty-nine years of age. Does she really need her father's permission to accept my proposal? And what if he were to say no? Where would that leave us? Would she go against him?"

"If you'd asked me that six months ago, I would 'ave said no, but now…I think you'll find she'll say yes despite whatever misgivings 'er father 'as."

"Then you've noticed it too," he sat forwards, keen to glean another person's insight. "You've seen a change in her?"

"I most certainly 'ave due, in no small measure, I might add, to 'ow much I reckon she loves you."

"You don't think it could be anything else?"

"Like what?" she frowned.

"I don't know. I just…can't help but think that something must have happened. She said they had reached an understanding, but knowing Mr Bailey as I do, I find that somewhat hard to believe."

"What could 'ave possibly 'appened? An argument of some sort?"

"That would make the most sense," he mused. "But perhaps I shouldn't dwell on it."

"Perhaps you shouldn't. Perhaps you should just focus on asking 'er." Mrs Hall leaned forwards. "Do you 'ave a ring?"

"No, not yet. In fact, I was going to ask your opinion on that. Should I purchase the ring in advance, or should we choose one together? When I asked Evelyn to marry me, I used her grandmother's ring that her mother gave me for that exact purpose. But then that was so long ago, a different era altogether. This time, I'm rather at a loss."

"Well, I never 'ad an engagement ring as such but, if I 'ad, I think it would have meant more if my 'usband 'ad chosen it for me 'imself. It would 'ave shown that 'e took the whole thing seriously."

"What if you hadn't liked it? What if I choose something for Lily and she hates it?"

Mrs Hall smiled. "I reckon she loves you enough to be delighted with anything you would choose for 'er."

"You really think so?"

"Yes, I do." She sighed happily. "A Darrowby wedding. There 'asn't been a good one of them in a while. It'll be very exciting."

"Do you really think people will care?"

"Absolutely they will! Lily's lived in these parts all 'er life, everyone knows 'er and 'er family. And, of course, what with you being the new, local, dashing vet…"

"Oh, I would hardly use those terms," he blushed and then paused. "I only hope that I can make her happy, as happy as she deserves to be."

"You will," Mrs Hall said encouragingly. "There isn't any reason in the world why you won't make 'er the 'appiest woman alive."


	22. Chapter 22

**28** **th** **November 1931**

"What a terrible night!" Siegfried exclaimed as he hurried into the kitchen at Windy Hill, shaking rainwater from his coat. "I could hardly see all the way up here."

"I was worried about you," Lily replied, helping divest him of his coat and hat. "I can 'ang these up 'ere to dry. Come through to the sitting room where the fire is." He followed her through and was instantly gratified by the hissing and crackling of the logs in the roaring fireplace, such a welcome sensation after the cold, wet evening's drive. "Can I get you a whisky?"

"Drinking before dinner? How very reckless," he smiled as she poured him a small glass. "But I would never say no to whisky." He waited until she had poured her own and then held his up in solidarity. "To us."

"To us," she repeated, swallowing some of the liquid and then meeting his gaze. "I'm very glad you're 'ere."

"And I'm very glad to _be_ here." He placed his glass down on the table and pulled her into his arms. "Very glad indeed to be completely and utterly alone with you. I've been thinking about it all day…" before she could say anything, he kissed her and felt utterly gratified at the way she melted against him. It felt so good being there with her, holding her, kissing her, touching her…it was everything he could ever want and more.

"If we're not careful, we might get carried away," she said slightly breathlessly when they broke apart.

"Would that be such a bad thing?" he joked.

"No, not at all." She kissed him that time, hard and forceful, full of a desire that he knew she possessed and yet also knew she had no idea how to harness. Her boundaries were flimsy, like fenceposts swaying in the mud. She was experiencing her first taste of the opposite sex, of wanting someone and being wanted and it would only be natural to crave something akin to what he could tell she craved and yet….it was up to him to remain steadfast and not give in to the ultimate temptation.

"Something smells wonderful," he said when they again moved apart.

"It's roast beef and all the trimmings. Oh, I know it's more of a Sunday dinner but, well, it's a dish that I know I'm good at so…"

"You're good at everything. I don't think you've ever presented me with anything that tasted less than perfect."

"You're just trying to butter me up," she laughed.

"And why would I do that?"

"I don't know. There's still much I 'ave to learn about you, Siegfried Farnon." She moved towards the door. "I'll just go and check the pots. Be back in a minute."

Her leaving gave him the opportunity to look around the small space and really see it for the first time in as many visits. Normally Tom would be ensconced in the armchair, or indeed elsewhere in the house, emitting an unwelcome air that made him inclined to focus on nothing more than what was in front of him rather than anything else. So being alone for the first time allowed him a chance to explore. The room was small and modestly furnished, but over on the sideboard he could see a number of photographs and he moved over to explore them. One was a wedding picture, clearly Tom and his late wife, another was of a young baby which could only be Lily and then a third. This one was a striking photograph of a young woman, half turned away from the camera, her eyes distant, her smile somewhat wistful. One thing he could say about it, was that she was uncommonly attractive.

"Me mother." He jumped at the sound of Lily's voice behind him. "Dad loves that picture of her. It's one of 'is favourites."

"She looks beautiful."

"She were twenty-one there. They were just married, and she got the picture taken for 'im. They were together another thirty odd years and I don't think 'e ever liked any picture as much as that one."

"You look very like her."

"Oh, I don't know…"

"You do," he insisted, turning to look at her. "Perhaps that's why you father has such difficulty with the thought of letting you go. He's already lost your mother."

"Perhaps," she agreed. "But that doesn't give 'im the right to dictate 'ow I live my life, does it?"

"No, not at all." He pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. "I suppose all I'm saying is, I can understand why he wouldn't want to let go of something as beautiful as you."

She shook her head and smiled, "You _do_ 'ave a way with words, don't you? I do 'ope you don't talk to all the ladies in Darrowby like that."

"As if I would, or could," he replied with mock horror at her suggestion. "I only have eyes for one woman in Darrowby and she's standing right in front of me." She held his gaze again for a long moment, and he knew the time had finally come. "Lily…" reaching out, he took her hands in his. "I hope you know how much I care about you…how much I love you. I think about you all the time, night and day. Nothing makes me happier than to spend time with you, whether it be at the surgery treating patients, or out on the road making my rounds, or walking in the hills, or just being right here. Much like your father, I suppose, I never imagined when I lost Evelyn that there could ever be anyone else that could make me feel the way she did and yet you…you do that and more. You have been _so_ patient with me all these months and been a friend to me when I most likely didn't deserve it and…well…what I want to say…what I want to ask you is, will you do me the great honour of becoming my wife?"

For a moment, she just looked at him, and a terrible sense of dread washed over him at the thought that she might, in fact, feel nothing of what he felt for her, as improbable as that seemed. Then her face broke into a wide smile and she threw herself into his arms. "Yes! Yes, my darling Siegfried, yes! _Of course_ I will be your wife, of course I will!"

"Oh…" he felt quite suddenly taken aback and the breath he didn't realise he had been holding left his body so quickly as to almost make him feel faint. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly to him, her warmth bringing him back to himself as he took in the fact that she had accepted…she had said yes… "Oh…Lily…" he squeezed her and then pulled back to look at her. "I…I wasn't entirely sure what you would say."

"Weren't you?"

"No, I mean…I hoped, beyond everything, that you would say yes but…I confess I wasn't sure, though I'm not sure I would have been able to bear it had you said no."

"It's lucky I didn't then, isn't it?" she smiled.

"Yes, yes indeed it is," he replied, kissing her fiercely again before suddenly remembering the trinket to seal the deal. "And, of course…" reaching into his pocket he pulled out the small ring box and turned it towards her. "I chose it myself and I hope you like it." Gently pulling the box open, he watched her face as she caught sight of the diamond nestled inside and felt a huge surge of satisfaction as she put her hand to her chest and looked genuinely shocked.

"Siegfried it's…it's beautiful. Are you sure…are you sure it's for me?"

"Well, you're the only woman I have proposed marriage to this evening," he replied, taking it gently out of its holding and clasping her hand in his. "May I?" She nodded and he slid it gently onto her finger. "There. It looks perfect."

She looked at her hand, at the way the jewel caught the light, and then met his gaze again. "This is too much, really it is…"

"Nothing is too much for you, my darling," he said, sliding his arms around her waist again and pulling her close. "Nothing will _ever_ be too much for you, I promise you that. I am going to give you everything that you have ever deserved and more. I love you, Lily Bailey."

Tears sprang into her eyes. "I love you too, Siegfried Farnon. I promise I'll be a good wife, I will."

"You don't have to promise me anything, except one thing."

"What's that?"

He smiled gently at her, "That you'll be happy, my darling. I want more than anything for you to be very, very happy."

XXXX

It felt as though she was floating ten feet above the ground. Siegfried was talking, sat as he was at the kitchen table, as she served up the dinner, but she wasn't entirely sure she was taking in anything he was saying. Every time she moved, the ring caught the light, and she felt a strange sensation in her stomach. She was engaged. She was going to be married. She was going to be married to _him_ , a man she knew she loved more than she had ever thought possible, and yet it still felt as though it had to be happening to someone else. It seemed so unbelievable that in the space of a few short months she could go from never having laid eyes on him, to the prospect of being his wife.

"Are you listening to me?"

"Sorry, what?" she turned around suddenly to see him smiling at her indulgently. "Yes, of course I'm listening."

"What did I just say?"

"Uh…well…something about…cows?"

"Sheep, actually," he laughed, "but I suppose you weren't far off. You'd best be careful moving around hot pans and the like if you're not paying attention."

"I'm sorry," she said, placing the bowls of potatoes, peas and Yorkshire puddings on the table before sliding a plate of meat down in front of him. "Though you _are_ to blame for my distraction."

"In a good way, I hope."

"In the best way," she bent and kissed him before sitting down at her own place. "My mind's already working ten to the dozen. There's so much to think about."

"Such as?"

"Well…when do you want to get married?"

"As soon as possible, I suppose," he replied. "Unless you think there's merit in waiting."

"No! No, not at all. 'ow soon is 'as soon as possible?'"

"Well…from memory the banns have to be called for three successive weeks before the wedding can take place. Given it won't be long until Christmas, I would propose perhaps shortly thereafter? January? Perhaps February at the latest?"

"That soon?"

"Would you prefer to wait longer?"

"No, I just…" she broke off, thinking over all that would need to be planned and organised. "Like I said, there's so much to think about. I 'ave to get a dress, we need to organise where the reception would be and the food. You'll 'ave to pick a best man, Tristan I assume?"

"I suppose it would be churlish to look beyond family first," he said, "though I dread to think what sort of speech he might think it appropriate to make."

"Bridesmaid. Who do I ask to be bridesmaid?" she looked at him as though he could provide an answer. "I don't 'ave…well…I don't rightly know who I would ask."

"I'm sure you'll be able to think of someone. You must have a few friends you could consider asking?"

"Yes, I suppose so…" she looked away, almost embarrassed to admit that she had let many of her friendships wane in recent years, not because she had wanted to, but because it had been easier to do that than to fight with her father for any kind of real independence. She ate in silence for a moment, mentally ticking off each aspect that would need to be considered. "Cake."

"Oh, I'm sure Mrs Hall would be delighted to make a cake for us."

"You can't assume that."

"No, but I can ask her, can't I? Speaking of which…" he paused and met her gaze. "Your father."

"What about 'im?"

"Well, tradition dictates that a man ask his intended bride's father for permission to marry her."

"And?"

"And…I presume I will require to ask yours for his."

"Why?" she replied stubbornly. "Surely it's _my_ decision whether I want to marry you or not, not 'is."

"Yes, of course…"

"I've already given you my answer, so anything 'e might say would be totally irrelevant, wouldn't it? If 'e said 'e wasn't going to give 'is permission, I'm not going to change my mind."

"I'm glad to hear it," he smiled. "But perhaps it would be best to give him his place, nonetheless."

"Do you _really_ want to ask 'im? Do you _really_ want to put yourself through what 'e might say to you if you do?"

"What do you think he might say to me?"

"I don't know, but…I can imagine it might not be pleasant. 'e might mention Evelyn and 'ow I'm second best or…"

"What?" he stared at her. "Second best? Where on earth has that notion come from? Has he said that to you?" She looked away. "Lily? Has he said that to you?"

The memory of the conversation they had had after he had laid hands on her came flooding back. It had stung at the time, when he had said that she would always be second best to Evelyn, but she had done her best to put the comment behind her and tried to focus on the present. "'e might 'ave said something like that…"

"How dare he," He shook his head. "Just because he has elected to wallow in the misery of widowerhood doesn't mean the rest of us have to. I've mourned Evelyn for many years now, but I think I'm entitled to as much happiness as the next man. And as for you…" he reached across and clasped his hand over hers. "You are _in no way_ second best. I don't ever want you to think that. You don't, do you?"

"Well…"

"Lily, please…"

"You can't expect it _not_ to be on my mind a little bit," she said. "I mean, when we 'ad dinner that night in Helmsdale and we kissed and then you said…"

"But that was months ago! We barely knew each other then and I had no concept at that time of how I would fall in love with you!"

"I know that. I suppose…if she 'ad left you, or you 'ad left 'er, then it might be different because you would 'ave _wanted_ to be apart. But she died. She left you when you didn't want 'er to and, if she 'adn't, you'd probably still be married today. I'm not saying that it's a bad thing and I would never want you to feel as though you couldn't still love 'er too, but I know me dad and I'm sure it's something 'e would like to throw in your face."

He sighed heavily. "Lily, I can't help the fact that I was married before, or that I loved Evelyn, but the truth is now that I love _you_ , more than I could ever have thought possible. Before I met you, I suppose I was like your father. Set in my ways. Convinced that there would be no other chance of happiness and unsure whether or not I even deserved it. And then I met you, and everything changed, _everything._ If your father wants to throw in my face that you are second best to Evelyn then I will happily disavow him of that notion. Please…" he squeezed her hand again. "Let me speak to him. I won't ask his permission, I'll simply tell him of our plans and let that be an end to it."

"I reckon 'e might notice this first," she said, holding up her hand again. "Perhaps it would be better if _I_ tell 'im first, then you could 'ave whatever conversation you wanted to 'ave with 'im after that."

"When does he get back?"

"Tomorrow, before lunch."

"Fine then. If you want to tell him, you do so. I'll be here, tomorrow afternoon, and I'll speak with him. I promise that everything will be all right. I want _you_ to promise that this is not going to spoil how happy I know you were before I brought it up."

She smiled again, overwhelmed at the feeling of having someone care for her so deeply, love her so ardently and be so committed to making her happy. Part of her couldn't help but fear falling asleep and waking to find it had all been some sort of wonderful dream. "I promise."

XXXX

Sated by a full meal followed by chocolate pie and cream, Siegfried knew he was in danger of falling asleep in front of the fire. Dinner consumed, they had retired back to the sitting room where Lily had said she would make coffee and he had, instead, entreated her to simply sit with him for a while as he allowed the meal to digest. Outside, the wind was whistling loudly, leaving him in no doubt as to how the farm had acquired its name, but nothing could have felt more wonderful than being on the settee with her snuggled in beside him, his eyelids drooping.

"I'm glad you came," she said suddenly, and he moved his head in order to drop a kiss on the top of hers. "This 'as been one of the best nights of my life."

"I'm glad," he murmured, his lips against her hair. "Think of how many nights like these we have to come."

"Will we live at Skeldale House?"

"I would imagine so. Why, where else were you considering?"

"Nowhere. I assumed that would be the case, I just wasn't sure." She paused. "What about Audrey?"

"What about her?"

"Well…will we keep 'er on?"

The question roused him, and he pushed himself up so that he could look down into her eyes. "Why on earth _wouldn't_ we keep her on?"

"Well…I suppose I just assumed…" her face coloured slightly. "I suppose I assumed that _I'd_ be mistress of the 'ouse."

"As you will be."

"But then, well, shouldn't I take on the duties of 'ousekeeper?"

"Oh, you'll be far too busy for that," he replied. "Besides, Mrs Hall has been invaluable to me since I've been in Darrowby and I wouldn't want to lose her. Good housekeepers are hard to come by."

"But that's my point," she said. " _I_ would step into the role of 'ousekeeper as your wife."

"I'm not having you run around picking up after Tristan, that's not your role. Besides, as I said, you'll be far too busy."

"Doing what, exactly? Bearing you children?"

"Well, I won't pretend that isn't a welcome idea, despite my own advancing years, but I was thinking more of you expanding your knowledge in terms of veterinary science. I wasn't joking before when I said about there being three Farnons' in the business under the one roof and you are eminently capable," he added as she opened her mouth seemingly to protest. "Don't think for a minute I'm going to allow you to squander your talent simply because you become my wife. If anything, it should enhance it."

"And there was me thinking 'aving me at the surgery was just a ruse to 'ave me near you," she smiled.

"Well, it was, but I don't see why it has to stop simply because we'd be married."

She shook her head. "I'm not sure there's many men who would think like you. I would think most would be like me father and believe that a woman's place is in the 'ome."

"Perhaps before the Great War, but not now. Women have shown themselves to be more than capable at many, many things and you are no exception." He paused and kissed her gently. "But of course, as I said, I want you to be happy, so if continuing to work with me _wouldn't_ make you happy…"

"No it would, of course it would. I reckon I just might feel a bit strange with Audrey cooking and cleaning for me when I'm fit and able to do it myself."

"Well, I'm sure if it concerned you that much you could come to some sort of arrangement," he conceded. "Those details can be worked out in due course."

"Yes, I'm sure they can." She reached up and kissed him, long and longingly and, before he had had time to properly react, she slid up onto her knees on the settee beside him before carefully moving one leg over his so that she was sitting facing him, her pelvis pressed snugly against his own. Instantly, he felt himself react to her, much as he had that day in the hills when she had seemed somewhat taken aback at the physical evidence of his desire for her.

"Lily…"

"Yes?" Her voice was low, warm, rich and inviting and he couldn't stop himself from placing his hands gently on her waist.

"I'm not sure…I mean, perhaps this isn't a very good idea…"

"Perhaps _what_ isn't a very good idea?"

"Well…umm…this…" he broke off as her mouth met his again and his hands slid up her back, enjoying the feel of her body under them, his mind going to a hundred different, yet equally inappropriate, places. "Lily…"

"You were the one who asked if I'd ever been made love to," she said softly, pulling back and looking down at him.

"I did and it was improper of me."

"Because we're not married?"

"Well…yes."

"We're engaged," she waggled her fingers in front of him. "Doesn't that make a difference?"

His brain, body and mouth fought against each other as she sat astride him, her expression calm. The sensible part of his brain was screaming at him that it _was_ improper, that lovemaking should be reserved for the marital bed, that he wouldn't have dreamed of laying hands on Evelyn until their wedding night when the two of them had stumbled through the awkwardness of virginity together. The more reckless side of his brain was reminding him that he was older now and that the world had changed, somewhat, since 1913, even if he had had no experience of it. His body was more resolutely focused in one direction. The pressure of her against him had only served to excite what had long lain dormant and which had started to come alive again of late at the thought of her.

"I know what I want," he said hoarsely.

"I do too," she whispered.

"I'm afraid of hurting you."

"Physically or…?"

"Both."

"You could never 'urt me, Siegfried, never." Her expression was warm and gentle and as he watched, she lifted her fingers to the delicate buttons of the blouse she was wearing and started to slowly loosen each one in turn. He stared, transfixed, as each action allowed more and more of her skin to become visible, down to the lace of her brassiere that snugly held her breasts. He could feel his breathing grow shallower as the blouse fell from her shoulders and, before he could stop himself, he pushed upwards, his arms going around her back, his mouth finding the warmth of her skin, his lips placing soft kisses on her collarbone.

She gasped softly, her hands straying to the back of his head and pulling him tighter into her as he grazed downwards towards the swell of her breasts. She felt different to Evelyn, the only other woman he had ever made love to, and yet the difference was not unwelcome. In fact, it was entirely the opposite and he suddenly felt red hot, burning desire rush through him as he lifted his hands to the fastening on her back.

"Not 'ere," she said suddenly, pulling back from him and getting to her feet.

"Where?" he asked, chilled by the loss of her next to him, despite the heat from the fire.

She held out her hand. "This way."


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for adult content.

She wasn't sure that she knew entirely what she was doing, but she knew that she wanted to, wanted to more than she had ever wanted anything before. Everything felt somewhat surreal, and as they climbed the stairs to her bedroom, Siegfriend's hand in hers, she felt ripples of anxiety and excitement course through her at alarming speeds so that she didn't know at any given time which had prominence. Her heart was thumping loudly in her chest and, at any moment, she expected her father to appear and angrily demand what they were doing. But he wasn't there. He was in Wensleydale with Cousin Joe, no doubt well on his way to inebriation. There was no one to caution her, no one to stifle her, no one to stop her.

Pushing open the bedroom door, she stepped inside, Siegfried following close behind. She had left her blouse discarded on the sitting room floor and she couldn't help shiver as his hands found their way to her bare shoulders and gently slid down the straps of her brassiere before his lips brushed against her skin. Turning to face him, she could tell by the look in his eyes that he desired her, even though she had no real experience to draw on. No man had ever looked at her the way he was looking at her and no man had ever touched her the way he had, the way she desperately wanted him to continue.

Without pausing to think, she began unbuttoning his waistcoat, each button sliding out with ease. He said nothing as it was discarded, and she turned to his shirt. She wasn't sure if it was her own body trembling or his, but there was a ripple of movement between them as she loosened each button, her mind returning to the afternoon in Mrs Calvert's cow shed when she had seen him shirtless for the first time. As he helped her remove it, he leaned forward and caught her mouth with his, gently pulling her into him once his arms were free, the heat of his body so welcome against her own. He didn't hesitate this time and she didn't stop him as his fingers found the metal hooks at her back and the tension around her chest slackened as the lace material fell to the floor.

He kissed her again, harder and deeper, his hands roaming over her bare back as hers explored his. She felt as though every nerve in her body was singing at the sensation of his skin under his hands, never having known before what it was like to be this close to a man. Then his mouth moved from hers and ventured lower, trailing down her throat and collarbone to the top of her chest before he moved backwards over towards her bed, catching her hand in his. He promptly sat down and pulled her gently between his thighs, her stomach dropping and her breath catching in her throat as his mouth worked down from the top of one breast to the bottom, his lips moving slowly around one peaked nipple before taking it in his mouth, his tongue flicking gently against it. She gasped again, her hands moving once more to the back to his head and pulling him into her, enjoying the sensation of him shifting from one breast to the other before he pulled back slightly and looked up at her.

"Are you sure…?"

"Yes, more than sure," she nodded, her hands going to the zip at the back of her skirt and lowering it so that it slid to the floor, his eyes fixed on hers the entire time. Her petticoat followed suit, then her stockings, until all that was left were her cotton briefs. Hesitating slightly, she couldn't help but wonder if he expected her to know what she should do and yet, how could he? He knew that she had no experience, had never so much as kissed a man before him let alone anything more. She suddenly felt a slight frisson of nervousness course through her at the thought that, whilst she was desperate to be satisfied by him, she might somehow come up short in satisfying him in return.

As though reading her mind, he took hold of her hand and guided her to sit on the bed beside him, cupping her face with his hand and kissing her again. "Lie back," he said softly when they broke apart, and she did as he instructed, watching as he got to his feet and unzipped his trousers before dropping them to the floor and then climbing onto the bed beside her. He lowered his mouth to the base of her stomach and kissed slowly up her flesh, lingering at each breast again, causing shooting sensations of desire through her body. He moved further upwards, his mouth eventually finding hers again and she relaxed into the familiarity of his kiss, only to jerk slightly as his fingers brushed over the gusset of her briefs before the material slowly started to slide down her leg. His mouth moved to one breast again as his fingers trailed back up along her body before moving across her hip.

The sensation of him touching her inner thigh made her gasp then stutter as his fingers slid more intimately into the wiriness of her hair and then…her breath came out as one long exhalation as he found the most sensitive part of her body, the part she had, in the past, gained some comfort from herself, and slowly began to encircle it as he bit down slightly on the flesh of her breast. "Siegfried…"

His head flew up as his hand jerked away from her. "Am I hurting you? I can stop…"

"No, no please don't stop."

"Maybe we shouldn't…" a look of doubt came into his eyes and she shook her head stubbornly.

"No, please. I want to, more than anything, please…" Despite his thoughts to the contrary, he appeared to need little persuasion towards continuing, and his mouth lowered again, his touch between her thighs growing more insistent and causing her to involuntarily arch her body against his, desperate for it to continue. She had often assumed that her first experience of lovemaking might be with someone like herself, someone inexperienced and fumbling. The thought that it might be with a man who had experienced the full gambit of a physical marriage had never crossed her mind…until she had met him.

She felt out of control, a sensation that she wasn't used to in her own bedroom. He had the greater experience, the only experience and, as a result, she found herself acquiescing to each fluttering touch, allowing him to guide her, trusting that he knew what he was doing. Just as she was settling into the sensations his actions were evoking, he shifted slightly above her and she felt herself stretch and open as his fingers ventured intimately inside her, causing her to cry out.

"I _am_ hurting you," he said suddenly, pulling back. "I don't want to, Lily, I…"

"No, Siegfried, please…" she raised herself up onto her elbows to look at him. "Please, I want you to. I need you to…

"But it might be better to wait."

"Until our wedding night?"

"Precisely."

"And will it be any different? Will it _feel_ any different? There 'as to be a first time for me whether it be now or our wedding night and I want it to be now, don't you?"

"Dear Lily…" he lowered himself back down on top of her, his hardness pressing insistently into her thigh, and kissed her gently. "I want you more than I think I've ever wanted anything or anyone in my life. I'm just…afraid that in wanting you, I hurt you and I couldn't bear that."

"I can imagine it might 'urt a little to begin with, but surely it's worth it? Otherwise, why would people do it?"

His eyes darkened, "If only you knew just _how_ worth it it can be."

She stroked his face gently, loving him at that moment more than she would have thought possible. "Then show me."

XXXX

He wasn't sure what he had expected. It had been so long, fourteen years, since he had last made love to Evelyn. In all the years that had passed, the memory of that last time had sustained him. It had been in her childhood bedroom on her parents' farm, the night before he had left to join his regiment. It had been, so he had always considered, a perfect expression of love, designed to remain with him through the months until he would see her again. He had often wondered if, had he known he never would, whether he would have done anything differently. Held her more closely, loved her more passionately. Of course, it hadn't always been like that. Both young virgins when they had married, they had required to overcome all the awkwardness and lack of knowledge together. There had been uncertainty and humour and, eventually, passion the likes of which he had never known before nor thought he would ever know again.

But now…with Lily…he had all the understanding such as it was, and she had none, and he would have been lying to himself if seeing her experience pleasure for the first time knowing that he was the creator of it didn't make him feel good. It was reckless, exhilarating and downright wonderful. He had almost forgotten _how_ wonderful and couldn't help but think that the memory had nothing on the sheer bliss of the reality.

At her insistence, he continued touching her, stroking her, opening her in ways that he knew by discovery through marriage and the intimate exploration of another person's body. Hers was different from Evelyn's in so many ways and yet, so many things were the same. He could feel his own body quivering as he watched her, at the way one hand tightly gripped the sheet beneath her, the other moving gently up and down his own body. Her head was back, her eyes closed, her mouth open and gasping. Leaning down, he took her nipple in his mouth again and she groaned, her lower body working against his hand in a way that he recognised and yet thought he had long forgotten. He had never considered, prior to marrying Evelyn, that there was any extension to lovemaking beyond the physical act of a man being inside a woman. It had only been through his journey of discovery with her that he had had his eyes opened to the ways that a man could create pleasure in a woman before experiencing his own.

"Oh…" Lily gasped suddenly. "Oh…"

He felt her tense around him, and he lowered his mouth to hers. "It's all right," he murmured against her lips, acutely aware that this would be the first time she would experience what he knew was about to happen. "It's quite natural."

She started to flail, her body losing all control as she reached her climax and he held onto her as she stretched, mewed and wailed, pleasure crashing through her. Her face reddened and, for a moment, he feared that she might stop breathing, but guttural cry after guttural cry escaped from her lips and she arched up towards him, digging her nails into the flesh of his back, moaning his name.

The sound only served to excite him more and as she peaked and then crashed back down onto the bed, he gently slid her thighs further apart and moved himself inside her. His passage was without restriction, made so by her own expelled desire, and he gasped as he found himself encased within her. Moving, slowly at first, then more insistently, he pushed inside her, pulling her legs up and around his waist. She lay beneath him, flushed, her body rising and falling with the dying exertion of her own release and as she opened her eyes and met his gaze, he realised, somewhat ridiculously, that it was happening. He was making love to her. He was making love to Lily. His mind flew back to the first time that he had ever seen her, in the kitchen downstairs, when he had mistakenly assumed Tom was her husband rather than her father. He remembered thinking how pretty she was, though he could never have conceived that some eight months later he would be in her bed, loving her, wanting her, needing her, enjoying her…

He felt himself start to spasm and knew release was coming. Gathering her up into his arms he held her close as his rhythm quickened to the level of wonderful intoxication and then his long overdue, painful, blissful release came. He gasped and groaned and moaned her name as he came inside her, the sensation more incredible than he could have ever remembered all these years past. Then he collapsed against her, spent and exhausted, yet every nerve in his body still jangling from the experience. "Lily…darling Lily…" he breathed, "that was…more wonderful than I could have ever imagined. You…you were wonderful, quite…wonderful."

"I never thought…I never thought it would be like that."

Gently he prised himself from her and rolled over onto his side so that he could look at her. Her expression was calm, almost wistful, and he suddenly began to worry that something was wrong. "In what sense? Are you all right?"

"Oh, I'm fine," she smiled. "I'm wonderful, in fact. I suppose…I just didn't know 'ow it would feel."

"Please tell me I didn't hurt you."

"You didn't. You couldn't. 'ow could you ever think that? Siegfried…" she pushed herself close to him again, brushing her lips against his. "It were the most wonderful thing I think I've ever experienced in my life. Thank you."

"No," he cupped her face with his hand and kissed her deeply. "Thank _you_. I never thought that I would ever have the chance to feel like this again and then, you came into my life and changed everything. I thought I might have forgotten the mechanics of the act but…it would appear it's not something that you _can_ easily forget."

"I always wondered what it would feel like to be touched by a man, to 'ave 'is 'ands on me. I thought that I might be afraid, but I wasn't, not with you." She looked up at him again, her expression so trusting, and he felt his heart swell.

"I'm so glad," he pulled her into him, "but this can't happen again until we're married."

"Why not?"

"Because…because it just can't. It's too dangerous."

"Dangerous?" she laughed, her body rumbling against his own. "What do you think might 'appen?"

"Well, the obvious concern would be that, well, that you might fall pregnant."

"Quite the scandal, I shouldn't wonder."

"Yes, it would be." He pulled back slightly so that he could look at her. "I wouldn't want that, and nor should you."

"I shouldn't want to 'ave your child?"

"Not out of wedlock, no. There is nothing on this earth that would make me want to be the cause of the ruining of your reputation."

" _My_ reputation?" she raised her eyebrows. "So, if I were to fall pregnant out of wedlock, it would only be me who would be talked about, not you?"

"Well, I doubt I would escape rebuke but, yes, sadly, it would be you who would be the subject of gossip."

"I see…" she paused. "If I _were_ to fall pregnant, would you still marry me?"

"Of course I would," he replied, feeling somewhat indignant at the suggestion that he might shirk his duty. "I'm not a man who runs away from his responsibilities, but given that we'll be getting married very soon, perhaps it's wise to simply avoid any risk."

"Fair enough," she smiled wickedly up at him. "As long as you think you'll be able to control yourself around me from now on, 'aving experienced what we just experienced."

"Well…" he sighed, thinking on how if could survive fourteen years he could survive a few months, "we all have our crosses to bear."

XXXX

They re-dressed in relative silence, though Lily could feel his eyes on her as she retrieved her briefs from the tangle of sheets and recovered her breasts with her brassiere. Electing to leave her legs free of stockings, she pulled her skirt back up and was searching in her cupboard for a new blouse to put on when he came up behind her, slid his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. She gasped slightly at the sensation then turned in his embrace to meet his mouth with her own. The kiss was long and lingering and, for a brief moment, she wondered if they might find their way back to her bed again, but eventually he pulled back and simply kissed her forehead before they made their way back downstairs to the sitting room, where the fire was slowly dying in the grate.

"Do you want another whisky, or some coffee?"

"No, thank you, it's getting late and I should be heading back." He paused. "It's not that I don't wish I could spend the whole night here with you but…"

"Folks would most definitely talk," she finished for him. "Especially if your car were seen 'ere all night, and I wouldn't want to risk my reputation."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that the way it sounded earlier. All I meant was…"

"You don't 'ave to apologise, Siegfried," she interrupted him. "I know what you meant, and I agree. If such a thing _were_ to 'appen I'd be considered a 'fallen woman' even in these slightly more enlightened times. As much as I enjoyed what 'appened between us tonight, I can wait."

He stepped forwards and pulled her into his arms again. "It won't be easy, but I suppose we'll just have to try."

"I suppose so. I 'ope you know 'ow 'appy you've made me."

"No doubt as happy as _you've_ made _me_."

The prelude to parting took longer than she had anticipated. He kissed her repeatedly, his hands straying over her body, his reluctance to leave clear. Instinctively, she felt the same way, wishing that time could rush forward and that they could be married so that no care need be given to what they did, when or where. Eventually, they reached the door and she shivered as the night air swept inside.

"Are you sure you want to come back tomorrow?"

"Yes, of course. I said that I would and I will. Speaking with your father is the final hurdle to clear before we can begin making our arrangements."

She sighed contentedly, still almost unable to believe that the events of that evening, all of them, had actually taken place. "Thank you."

"What for?"

"For everything. For coming into my life, for loving me, for asking me to marry you…for making love to me."

"I would never have presumed to if you hadn't…"

"I'm glad I did. If I die in my sleep tonight, at least I'll die 'appy."

"Oh please, don't say that," he said urgently. "You _will_ die in your sleep, of that I am sure, but it will be lying next to me, and you'll be a very old woman." He kissed the tip of her nose. "Until tomorrow."

"Until tomorrow," she echoed. "Goodnight Siegfried, drive carefully."

"I will, goodnight darling. Go inside before you catch your death."

She did as bidden, and watched from the window as he turned the car in the yard and then disappeared down the hill and out of sight. Alone, and with the clock striking ten behind her, she suddenly found herself unsure what to do. The obvious choice was to go to bed and though part of her longed to lie in the sheets where they had been together and recreate in her mind what had occurred, another part of her felt that it might make her melancholy that he wasn't there with her and that the prospect of such bliss happening again before they were married was extremely small. She could understand his hesitation and fears and even agree with them, but when she thought about how it had felt to be with him…

Jolting herself out of her reverie, she began clearing up the kitchen, her gaze falling on her ring as she did so. Despite the bliss of the second half of the evening, she knew she couldn't forget the sheer wonderfulness of the first half when had proposed to her. She was to be his wife and she could think of nothing better. Well, nothing better than being in his bed, loving and being loved by him and bearing him as many children as her body could sustain.

She started humming to herself as she finished her chores, thinking on how 1931 had started so bleakly and yet appeared to be ending so wonderfully.

XXXX

Siegfried could barely concentrate on the road in front of him, the inclement weather being one reason, but Lily being quite clearly the other. Had he even less restraint than he knew he possessed, he would have turned the car around, driven back to Windy Hill and stayed the night with her, caring not for what anyone thought. The farm was secluded enough, and he could position the car where it was unlikely to be seen, rising early in order to leave before her father was due to return.

"Don't be a fool, Farnon," he chided himself as he negotiated the road, the rain battering his windscreen. "You'll be married soon enough and then you can be with her as often as you like." When he eventually pulled up in front of Skeldale House, he switched off the engine and then sat for a while, reliving all that had taken place that evening. The look on her face when he had proposed, the feel of her under him, the sensation of her skin, the sound of her pleasure…

"Evening Mr Farnon!"

He was violently jolted back to reality by someone banging on the window and, peering out, saw the face of Henry Dinsdale looking back at him. He opened the door and stepped out, pulling his coat around him in the face of the wind and rain. "Good evening Mr Dinsdale. Terrible night, isn't it?"

"Isn't it just. I just popped down for a quick 'alf," he gestured over towards the Drovers Inn. "You weren't called out to a beast on a night like this, were you?"

"Uh…no."

"Ah, social call then?"

"Well…" he paused, recalling what Lily had said about comments Henry, and his wife, had apparently made about her. "Something like that."

"Up at Windy Hill then."

"Perhaps," he replied, realising immediately how ridiculous it sounded. Either he had been there or he hadn't. "Yes," he clarified. "I had dinner with Miss Bailey."

"Tom's away to Wensleydale. One of his visits to 'is cousin, Joe."

"Yes, Lily did say."

"All alone up there then, the two of you."

The implication in the other man's tone was clear and Siegfried found himself torn between telling him, a valued customer, to mind his own business and confirming the suspicion, not that he feared for a moment that the other man would genuinely have cause to believe that he had been within Lily's bed. "Yes, I suppose we were. Goodnight Mr Dinsdale." Before anything further could be said, he hurried up the steps of the house and inside, slamming the door behind him.

"Goodness me, I thought the 'ounds of 'ell were coming inside," Mrs Hall greeted him in the hallway. "What a night it is. I'm glad you made it back safely." She paused as he removed his coat and hung it on the stand. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"Did you ask 'er?"

"Yes, yes I did."

"And…?"

"And she said yes, as I hoped she would."

Her face broke into a broad smile and she rushed forwards, pulling him into an uncharacteristic embrace, one which he was quite unprepared for. "Congratulations, Mr Farnon! I'm so 'appy for the both of you, really I am." She pulled back. "And did she like the ring?"

"Yes, very much so. I'm glad I took your advice and purchased it in advance."

"Oh, how wonderful! And did you talk much? Make any plans?"

"Well…" he paused, thinking on how little talking there had really been. "I'm going back tomorrow to speak to her father and, well, after that it should be all steam ahead. In fact, on that point, Mrs Hall, I was hoping that you might be agreeable to baking the wedding cake for us."

"I'd be honoured," she beamed. "And I'll 'elp in any way I can with the arrangements. Oh, I'm so 'appy for the pair of you!" She pulled him into another embrace.

"Yes," he agreed, a smile spreading across his face at the contagion of her excitement. "Yes, I'm rather pleased too."


	24. Chapter 24

**29 November 1931**

Lily elected not to attend church the following day. Primarily, it was because she wanted to be at home when her father returned so that she could break the news to him, both about her engagement and the fact that Siegfried intended speaking with him that afternoon. She would have been lying to herself, however, if she also didn't feel a slight frisson of guilt at the thought of stepping inside the Lord's house after the carnal delights of the previous evening, though she knew that was something she would simply need to overcome. Instead, she flitted about the house, cleaning and tidying and preparing the midday meal in anticipation of his return, but she found herself pausing regularly to stare at the diamond on her finger and relive all the events of the previous night. Sleep had evaded her for hours as she had lain in the dark remembering what had occurred. It seemed as though, if she just closed her eyes, she was back in his arms, feeling the sensation of him near her, against her, inside her…

Just before twelve, the sound of a vehicle broke into her thoughts and, hurrying to the window, she saw her father pull the van to a stop in the yard and climb out. He didn't look too worse for wear after what she could only assume had been an alcohol filled evening, and she could only hope that having spent time with Cousin Joe, he would be in good spirits.

"Afternoon," she greeted him casually as he came into the kitchen. "Did you 'ave a nice time with Joe?"

"It were all right," he replied, taking off his coat and hanging it on the peg. "Something smells good."

"It's just some beef I 'ad left over. It'll be ready soon." She paused, waiting for him to enquire about her own evening, but he simply moved over to the sink, doused his face and hands and then rubbed them dry with the towel. "At least the weather's a bit better today than it was yesterday. Terrible wind and rain all night."

"Aye."

"Joe crack open the whisky did 'e?"

He turned to face her, his expression almost unreadable. "Do you 'ave something to tell me?"

She froze for a moment, almost fearful that he had guessed what she and Siegfried had done. But, realising that there was no way he _could_ know, she simply refocused on the task at hand. "I do, as it 'appens." She stepped forwards and held out her hand for him to see. "Siegfried asked me to marry 'im last night."

He looked at the ring for a long moment before raising his gaze back up to meet hers. "Very nice."

"Yes, it is. 'e said some very nice things too."

"I'm sure 'e did."

"'e's coming over this afternoon, actually," she moved over to the stove and bent to look inside the oven.

"What for?"

"To speak to you, of course."

"Oh aye? What does 'e want to speak to me for?"

She turned back round to face him sat, as he now was, at the table. "Well…'e wants to talk to you about proposing to me."

"Well, 'e's already done that, 'asn't 'e? Can't think why e'd want to talk to me now."

"Dad…"

"I doubt anything I might say would change your mind, or 'is, would it? You've already accepted 'im."

She took a deep breath, reminding herself to remain calm and respectful. After all, in only a few shorts months she would be away from Windy Hill, living her own life as Mrs Farnon. The least she could do was endeavour to make the rest of her time there as civil as possible. "Yes, I 'ave, but that doesn't mean 'e doesn't feel 'e should still speak to you about it. 'e…we…both want your blessing."

He looked at her for a long moment and she found herself holding her breath, desperately praying that he would say something comforting. "Well, I suppose I can at least 'ear what 'e has to say. Now then, is it ready? I'm starving."

"Yes, it's ready." She turned back to the stove and began dishing up the meal, unsure what to take from his comment. Would he give his blessing, or would he simply let Siegfried talk and then walk away? Or would he make Siegfried feel bad for having asked her before asking him? The latter thoughts made her feel angry and before she could stop herself, she had turned back around to face him. "And when he does speak to you, 'ow are you going to react? Are you going to accept what 'e says or are you going to make him jump through 'oops to get any sort of response from you?"

"Well I won't know that until I 'ear what 'e 'as to say, will I?"

"You _must_ know. You _must_ know 'ow you're going to react, Dad. You _must_ know 'ow you feel about the fact that I'm going to be 'is wife."

"I don't reckon my feelings 'ave come into this whole thing much, do you?"

"On the bloody contrary," she snapped, thumping a bowl of peas down on the table, "You've been like a spectre 'anging over the whole thing, ever since I started seeing 'im. I want you to be 'appy for me, Dad. I want you to understand that I love 'im and 'e loves me, regardless of whether or not 'e's been married before." She paused and took a breath. "More than that, I want you to recognise that me marrying 'im isn't being done to 'urt you or leave you or whatever it is you think it would mean. I'll never stop being your daughter and I'll always be 'ere if you need me but…but I want to be 'is wife too. They're not mutually exclusive surely?"

He said nothing in response, merely ate the food that she placed in front of him before rising from the table, changing into his work clothes and heading outside, the door banging behind him in the afternoon wind. Alone with her thoughts again, she found herself swinging between anger and despair, tears pricking at her eyes as she cleared up the dishes, before going to the mirror in the sitting room and taking a long look at herself. She didn't want Siegfried to see that she had been upset, didn't want him to think that she wasn't still overjoyed at the prospect of becoming his wife and though she knew his resolve to marry her was steadfast, she couldn't help but worry as to the outcome of the conversation to come.

She had something that she thought she'd never have; the love of a good, decent man and yet, still, she felt unhappy.

XXXX

"Now, you stand your ground," Mrs Hall said as Siegfried pulled on his coat in preparation for the journey up to Windy Hill. "Don't let Tom Bailey say anything that's going to make you change your mind about marrying Lily."

"Mrs Hall, I can assure you that _nothing_ could make me change my mind about marrying Lily, and certainly not anything her father might say. If we have to marry against his wishes, then so be it. She'll have a home here, so it's not at if she would be without lodgings if the worst were to happen."

"Well, let's just 'ope that it doesn't."

"I'm sure everything will be fine. Mr Bailey is, I'm sure, a reasonable man deep down." He replayed the words over in his mind as he made the drive to the farm. There was a certain amount of anxiety coursing through him at the prospect of facing Lily's father, but it was tempered with the memory of how happy she had been to receive his proposal and how willingly she had given herself to him thereafter, a memory he had had little difficult recreating in his mind at various points over the course of the preceding few hours. Despite what he had said about restraining themselves until legally bound together, he couldn't help but think of opportunities when he might be able to be with her again.

When he pulled into the yard at Windy Hill, he caught sight of Lily's face at the window and she had the door open for him before he had even stepped out of the car. "Hello," he greeted her as he entered the kitchen, finding himself surprised, and a little concerned, at the way that she threw herself into his arms. "Is everything all right?"

"Fine," she replied, her voice muffled against his shoulder. "I've just missed you, that's all."

"In the space of just over twelve hours?"

She pulled back and looked up at him, the expression on her face making it clear that she was not party to his gentle teasing. "'aven't you missed me?"

"Of course I have. I thought about you most of last night after I left. In fact, I could hardly stop thinking about you." He brushed his lips against hers. "Mrs Hall agreed to bake the wedding cake, by the way, and she couldn't have been more delighted for us."

"That's good," she replied, her tone devoid of any real enthusiasm.

"Are you sure you're all right?" he questioned, tightening his arms around her. "Your father, has he…?"

"'s down in the cattle shed. I don't know what kind of reception you'll get. I told 'im we were engaged and, well, it wasn't as though I expected 'im to sweep me up in a congratulatory embrace but…I suppose I 'oped that 'e might react in _some_ way that didn't make the whole thing all about 'im."

"I'm sorry. Perhaps we should have waited until we were both together and then told him. I don't like to think about you having to face him on your own."

"I'm not afraid of 'im," she said quickly, pulling back.

"No, I didn't think that you were." He paused. "I'll go and talk to him and then, perhaps, we could all have a cup of tea together, what do you think?"

"That would be nice."

"Right then," he pulled her into him again and kissed her longingly, his body reacting in the most inappropriate way for a Sunday afternoon. He couldn't help but wish that Tom was still far away, and he could take her to bed again. "Don't worry. I'm sure that everything will be fine and, even if it isn't, it's not going to change our plans, is it?"

"No. I do love you, Siegfried."

"And I love you, my darling. Now, the cattle shed you said?" She nodded and, with a final, brief kiss, he made his way back out into the yard and down the hill round to where the shed was located. Before reaching it, he could hear the gentle lowing of the cows within and, once his eyes had grown accustomed to the gloom, he caught sight of Tom at the other end, shifting bags of feed from one corner to the other. "Good afternoon Mr Bailey," he greeted him brightly.

Tom looked up briefly and then looked away again. "Mr Farnon."

"Siegfried, please. After all, we _are_ going to be family." He knew it was a risky opening gambit and couldn't help but notice the other man pause for a brief moment before continuing with the task at hand. "I gather Lily's told you that I've asked her to marry me."

"Aye, she 'as."

"I realise that tradition usually dictates that I should ask your permission before speaking with her but, well, she's not a young girl and…"

"Isn't she?"

The question threw him slightly and it took a moment for him to regroup and recover his train of thought. "No, she's isn't. She'll be twenty-nine next month and…"

"You don't 'ave to tell me 'ow old my daughter is, Mr Farnon. I were 'ere when she were born."

"Yes, quite. I suppose my point was that, well, a woman of that age, as Lily is, really shouldn't _need_ her father's permission to marry. Rather, she should want his blessing, as I know Lily does. As I do."

Tom straightened up and turned around to face him. "You want my blessing?"

"Yes, I do." He hesitated suddenly as the other man began walking towards him and found himself hoping that he wouldn't move to strike him. He knew he could defend himself, if the occasion warranted it, but it would only succeed in making things a hundred times worse. "I hoped that by coming and speaking with you today we could reach some sort of…understanding. I love your daughter, very much, and I know that she loves me and if your concern is about her happiness, as it should be…"

Tom stopped in front of him. "You don't 'ave any children, do you Mr Farnon."

"Uh…no…not yet at least…"

"Yet you see fit to tell me what my concerns for my daughter should be?"

"I…"

"I've raised Lily, on my own, since 'er mother died. I comforted 'er when she were upset. I made sure she 'ad food and clothes and a warm 'ouse to live in. I made sure she went to school for as long as she could. I've _provided_ for 'er. I've known 'er for every single one of those twenty-nine years that she's been on this earth and you've known 'er for less than one. Don't presume to tell me what my concerns should be when you've no idea 'ow a father feels."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I have no wish to offend you. You're right in that I have no idea what it means to be a father but, all I meant was that I believe I can make Lily very happy, as happy as I know she can make me and that surely, as a father, that would be what you would want."

"Is _your_ father still alive?" Tom looked at him curiously.

"Oh…no. He and my mother are both deceased."

"But they were alive at the time of your first marriage."

Siegfried couldn't help but detect a slight note of contempt in the other man's tone at the use of the words _first marriage_ and though he wasn't entirely sure where the conversation was leading, elected to play along in any event, for Lily's sake if nothing else. "Yes, they were."

"And were they 'appy when you got married…when was it?"

"July 1913. The twenty-second, to be precise. They were…well…" he considered lying, if for no other reason than to bolster his own aim in having the conversation, but something in the other man's eyes made him believe that Tom would know if he told untruths. "My mother was pleased, but my father was concerned."

"About what?"

"He thought we were too young. I was still at veterinary college at the time and he was worried that I might not complete my education if, for example, my wife had fallen pregnant. His fears were unfounded of course. I had no intention of not qualifying."

"But you got married anyway."

"Yes, he didn't stop us, even though he may have wanted to."

"You must 'ave loved her very much then, your first wife. To go against your father as you did."

He paused, thinking briefly of Evelyn. "Yes, I did."

"Me own parents were glad when I married Rose. She were a cut above me, as it were. I'm not so sure that 'er folks felt the same, especially when I brought 'er back 'ere." He looked around wistfully. "She took to it well enough though."

Siegfried watched him for a long moment, then chose to err on the side of commonality. "I'm very sorry that we both share the same loss. It doesn't seem right somehow, burying someone you love when they're still so young."

Tom met his gaze again. "And yet, 'ere you are, looking to marry wife number two."

"I…"

"Your late wife's memory not sacred to you then?"

Though he had tried to act politely and with deference in their discussion so far, Siegfried couldn't help anger growing inside him at the other man's tone and at the presumption that in seeking to marry Lily he was, in any way, not being mindful of Evelyn. "I'm not sure that I appreciate that comment, sir."

"Don't you?"

"No, I don't. I've mourned my wife for many years now and, like you I suspect, thought that there would never be anyone who could ever mean as much to me as she did. But then I met Lily, and everything changed. I love her as much as I loved my late wife, Evelyn, perhaps more."

"So, you don't compare them?"

"Well," he stuttered, seeing Lily's body in his mind's eye. "I…I mean I suppose there are little things that I might think about in comparison, yes, but…"

"And does my Lily come up wanting?"

"No, of course not! Mr Bailey…" he stepped forward earnestly. "Lily is the most wonderful woman that I have met in more years than I care to remember. She is bright and keen and loving and has qualities that would appeal to _any_ man given the chance. I'm very fortunate that she has chosen to bestow all her affection on me and if you are concerned that I will hurt her, or let her down, or somehow not be the husband that she deserves, then you need not be. I will treasure your daughter until my dying day, of that I give you my word."

Tom said nothing for a long moment and Siegfried found himself holding his breath in anticipation of where the conversation might go next. "I've grown used to 'aving 'er 'ere," he said finally. "Knowing there's someone in the kitchen, working around the 'ouse…makes it seem as though ‘er mother's still alive somehow. As though I never lost 'er."

"I can appreciate that. Living in our home after my wife died seemed very strange for a long time," he admitted, thinking back on those terrible days. "There were times I was convinced she was in another room and that she would appear in front of me at any moment…but Lily would never see you lonely, and neither would I."

"But she would live with you."

"Yes, naturally."

"So, it's all right for 'er to be _your_ maid and cook as opposed to mine?"

Siegfried winced slightly, recalling the words he had thrown at Tom when the other man had accosted him outside the church after his disastrous dinner with Lily, so many months ago. "I shouldn't have said what I did to you that day but, well, you weren't exactly pleasant towards me either."

"My lass were upset at the time. You 'ad said something to 'er and, as 'er father, it were my job to make you aware that I wasn't 'appy about it."

"I can understand that. Truth be told, at that time I felt so guilty contemplating loving anyone else, as though, as you suggest, I would be betraying Evelyn's memory." He paused. "I'm not proud of how that must have made Lily feel at that time and I can understand how _you_ might be unable to fathom falling in love with another woman after the death of your wife. For a long time, neither could I, a very long time. But as I said, Lily has changed everything for me in the most wonderful way." He thought back on Tristan's words, so dismissed at the time, and yet so full of truth. "Whilst I will always have a place in my heart for Evelyn, as I should, I have to believe that she would want me to be happy."

"What about all this nonsense about Lily 'elping you at your surgery?" Tom folded his arms across his chest.

"I don't believe it to be nonsense. As I said, Lily's bright and eager and she's a quick learner too. She's already picked up so much from the time we've spent together. I really think this is something she could be very good at."

"So, you don't want 'er as a traditional wife then. You want 'er to work."

"Well, only if _she_ wants to. I want Lily to do whatever makes her happy, Mr Bailey, whether that be working with me or being in the home. But I already have a housekeeper, a very good one, so there would no need for her to take on that role if she'd rather not."

"You'll be expecting 'er to bear you children though, won't you?"

Though he was slightly taken aback at the personal nature of the question, Siegfried couldn't help but feel as though they were approaching the end of a very long tunnel, with light in sight, and mindful of not derailing the train, as it were, chose his words carefully. "I would like nothing more than to have a family with Lily, but it is not the be all and end all of the overall life I long to share with her. Mr Bailey…" he added, before the conversation could become any more personal. "As I said before, Lily doesn't need your permission to marry me, but I don't think she will ever be truly happy unless you give your blessing. Surely seeing her unhappy is the last thing either of us want."

Tom shifted his feet slightly from side to side before moving past him towards the entrance to the shed. Unsure whether or not he should follow, Siegfried remained where he was, his heart thudding loudly in his chest, hoping what he had said had had _some_ positive impact on the other man. "Seeing as you're 'ere," Tom said eventually. "Can you take a look at one of my fillies? Something's not quite right with 'er back leg."

"Oh…uh…yes, of course. Does that mean…I mean…"

"One step at a time, eh Siegfried? One step at a time."

XXXX

It had been Lily's intention to do some washing whilst Siegfried and her father were talking, but in truth she had neither the inclination nor concentration and instead found herself walking back and forth from the window, hoping to catch sight of them and gauge the outcome of their discussion. On what seemed like the hundredth time of her looking out of the window, she suddenly saw them both emerge around the corner from the cow shed, but rather than head for the house, they turned towards the nearby paddock where the horses were. Her father unlocked the gate and they both ventured inside, over to where a young filly, Dawn, was tied to the fence. She watched as Siegfried bent and ran his hand along the horse's leg before lifting her foot and looking at it, her father pointing something out as he did so.

Unable to bear not knowing any longer, she grabbed her coat from the hook, opened the door and ventured out into the yard. As she approached the paddock, she could hear the two of them talking together, their voices measured, discussing the problem at hand.

"Is everything all right?" she asked, stopping at the gate.

"I just thought I'd ask Siegfried to 'ave a look at Dawn, seeing as 'e were 'ere," her father said, turning to look at her.

"Siegfried…" she echoed, surprised at his use of the other man's given name. "Does that mean…?"

"Looks like an abscess," Siegfried said, straightening up. "It should be fairly easy to drain and she should be right as rain in a few days."

"Well, that's reassuring to 'ear."

"My bag's in the car. I've got just the thing." He moved towards her and Lily found her eyes roaming his face, looking for any clue as to what had transpired between them.

"Well?" she asked quietly as he reached her.

"One step at a time, darling," he replied, dropping a swift kiss on her cheek. "One step at a time."

Before she could say anything further, he loped off in the direction of the car and she turned back to where her father was watching her. "Dad…"

"Be 'andy 'aving a vet in the family." He paused. "If you want to marry 'im, lass, I'll not stand in your way."

A wave of relief swept over her and she took in a sharp breath, grabbing onto the gate for support as she did so. During the time they had been talking, she had convinced herself that it had all gone wrong, that her father had made a case for the marriage not to take place, and that Siegfried had agreed. She had seen him, in her minds eye, telling her that he was sorry, that he couldn't marry her and asking for the ring back. Although she had hoped so much for good news, the reality of it made her feel almost weak. "Dad…"

"I'm assuming there won't be any charge."

She turned back around to see Siegfried reappear behind her, his bag in his hand and a smile on his face. "No," he said, "None at all."


	25. Chapter 25

**10 December 1931**

"I absolutely insist!" Margaret Hulton exclaimed, pushing a glass of champagne into Lily's hand, despite her protestations. "It's not every day it's your birthday, nor do you become engaged. Happy birthday and congratulations!"

"Thank you," Lily replied, gently clinking her glass against the other woman's. "It's very kind of you."

"Nonsense, Edward and I are very pleased for both of you and, if I must say, a little smug at the very small part we perhaps played in bringing you and Siegfried together. Or, perhaps I should say, the small part _Adagio_ played in so doing." She paused and smiled. "I knew the way he looked at you the evening you both came for dinner that he was falling in love with you. You must have recognised it for yourself, surely?"

"Oh…well…"

"And have you set a date for the wedding?"

"Yes, Saturday 30th January."

"Oh, that's still some time away. I imagined you would want it sooner?"

"Well, we only spoke with Reverend Thwaite last week and the banns 'ave to be called three weeks in a row. What with Christmas and New Year and everything, it seemed sensible to give ourselves a bit of time on the other side to get organised."

"Very wise," Margaret nodded. "A wedding is a complicated affair. Have you selected a dress yet?"

"No, but I'm going to York next week to take a look." The thought alone excited her and whilst she had little to draw on, many of her thoughts and imaginings over the last few weeks had been focused on what sort of white creation she was going to choose for herself.

"By yourself?"

"No, Audrey Hall's coming with me. I value 'er opinion."

"Splendid. One mustn't shop for one's bridal gown alone. And the reception, where are you going to hold it?"

"It's nothing fancy. We asked Reverend Thwaite if we could use the church 'all and 'e said yes…"

"No, no, no, you must have it here!"

Lily paused and stared at her. "'ere?"

"Absolutely!"

"Oh no…no I couldn't…"

"Of course you could! Oh, I'm not talking about using the ballroom, I realise that might seem a little bit too much, but we have ample rooms that are more than suitable to hold a wedding breakfast. Oh, please say you'll have it here. It would please Edward and I so much."

"Well…" she paused again, unsure quite how to respond. It was beyond kind of the other woman to offer and yet, she couldn't help but think that having a reception at Hulton Hall might be taken ill out by some. "I'll 'ave to talk to Siegfried…"

"Yes, you must. I'm sure he'll agree that it's a very suitable option. Ah…" Margaret glanced out of the window. "They're coming now with the horses. I do hope it stays dry for your ride. Nothing worse than plodding over the hills soaked to the skin. Oh, Soames has brought Aria for you, how appropriate. She is a _very_ sweet mare, such an ideal temperament for someone not used to horseback riding."

Leaving her, now empty, glass on the table, Lily followed her host out of the sitting room into the main hallway and then down the steps outside where Lord Hulton's stablemaster, Soames, was standing holding the bridles of two beautiful looking horses. A few paces behind, deep in conversation, Siegfried and Edward followed suit.

"Ah, there you are!" Edward exclaimed, upon seeing them. "The horses are ready. All you need to do now is go off and enjoy your time with them."

"This really is very kind of you," Siegfried said, catching her eye and smiling. "I'm only sorry we've not been able to take you up on your offer before now."

"Well, Lily's birthday seems an ideal opportunity to do so," Edward stepped forward and kissed her on the cheek. "Happy birthday my dear."

"Thank you."

"Well, this is Aria and she'll see you safely from start to finish," he clapped the hindquarters of the nearest horse. "Not to mention the fact that she's particularly fond of Largo, so wherever he leads, she will follow. No danger of you getting lost or separated."

"She's beautiful," Lily commented as Soames made to help her mount. "They both are."

"I would keep to the west track," Edward said once she and Siegfried were both seated. "There's some lovely views but it's not too far to turn back, should the weather change."

"Let's hope it doesn't," Siegfried said. "Thank you again."

"Not at all, enjoy yourselves. Remember Lily, feet in the stirrups, hands on the reins and you'll be fine."

"Thank you," she laughed.

With a flick of heels and a swish of tails, both horses obediently started walking along the side of the house before turning down towards the far end and the glorious vista beyond. Never having sat on a horse before, Lily couldn't help the jangling of her nerves as she felt the beast move beneath her, but Siegfried had told her to simply hold on tight and that they would go at a simple walking pace, nothing too adventurous for her first time. As they picked their way down towards the far field where the track started, she craned her neck to look up at the leaden sky above them. The wind was brisk and cold, but the sun was attempting to break through in patches and she couldn't help but share Margaret's view that there would be nothing worse than riding in the rain.

"What were you and Lady Hulton discussing?" Siegfried asked, breaking into her thoughts.

"She was just asking me about the wedding arrangements. She offered to let us use Hulton Hall for the reception."

"Really? What did you say?"

"Well, I said I'd 'ave to talk to you but…well…I don't think it's entirely appropriate, do you?"

"Why do you say that?"

"Well…wouldn't it makes us seem as though we were getting a bit above ourselves? Hulton Hall? Really? What would our guests think?"

"Do you care? It would be our day."

"Yes, I do care. I don't want folk to think badly of us. I think I'd be more comfortable 'aving it in the church 'all, as we agreed, though it _was_ very kind of Lady Hulton to offer."

"You spend far too much time caring about what other people think," he replied. "But I can see your point, and I would agree that you're right. The church hall it is then."

"Good," she breathed, grateful that he hadn't seen fit to argue the point too seriously with her. Things had been ticking along so well in the last few weeks that the last thing she wanted to do was upset the apple cart, as it were. Her father's mood had improved considerably since his talk with Siegfried and she couldn't help but feel so much happier in herself than she ever had before. Every moment that she spent with her future husband filled her with such joy. "You'll be looking forward to seeing Tristan this weekend."

"Yes, I confess I will. Don't tell him, but I have missed him these past months."

"I'll remind you of that when you start complaining about him again."

"Yes, please do. If there's one thing consistent about me it's that I'm terribly inconsistent."

She laughed as they turned onto the track. "It must be nice 'aving a brother though. I've always wondered what it would be like."

"It can be terribly draining, let me tell you. If I'm not despairing of him, I'm worrying about him. Perhaps if we were closer in age it would be different but, as it is…as I've said before, at times I feel more like his father than his brother. I'm painfully aware that he needs guidance, but also freedom to make his own mistakes, if that makes any sense."

"Of course it makes sense. You'd probably worry about 'im whatever the age difference was though."

"Yes, I suppose you're right. Although, in marrying you I hope to half that burden." He smiled mischievously at her. "You will be like a second stepmother to him."

"I thought your stepmother was still alive?"

"She is, but we've had little contact with her since Father died. I've decided I'm not going to invite her to the wedding."

"Oh."

He glanced over at her again, "You don't approve?"

"Well, it's not really for me to say but…well…she _is_ family, isn't she?"

"In a way."

"You told me that she was lovely."

"She is."

"Then why wouldn't you invite 'er?"

"I don't know," he sighed. "Perhaps it's because she's so intrinsically linked to Father and the past. But then again, perhaps the past isn't such a bad thing. I suppose, deep down, I'm sorry that he and Mother can't be here, can't meet you. I know they would have both adored you."

"I can understand that. I wish me mother were 'ere to see me married, but I suppose some things just aren't meant to be. Family's important, though, Siegfried. It's _the_ most important thing."

"You're right," he smiled at her again. "It's certainly very reassuring how well your father's taken things."

"I think, deep down, 'e's actually quite excited about the wedding, not to mention gaining a vet for a son-in-law."

"Well, I can see how that could be true. He's certainly consulted me on many things since I spoke with him."

"Don't let 'im use you," she warned. "First sign of something being free of charge and 'e's all over it."

"I don't mind, how could I? It's a small price to pay for knowing that he accepts me, accepts us. Besides, he may well have a vet for a daughter one day."

She laughed indulgently, "Perhaps." As the weeks had passed, and her father had been more accepting of how things were going to change, she had spent more time reading Siegfried's books and accompanying him both at the surgery and out on visits. She felt as though her brain was literally expanding with all the knowledge that she had acquired in such a short space of time and, as pleased as she was for herself, she also couldn't help but be happy at the pleasure she was clearly giving him. "I told 'im seven o'clock for dinner tonight. That were right, weren't it?"

"Yes, absolutely. I know Mrs Hall's looking forward to it."

"It's very kind of her to do it," she replied. "I'm not needing a fancy birthday dinner though."

"Nonsense, she's happy to do it and I think it's wonderful that your father's going to come too. Another breakthrough, you might say. I'm sure we'll make a happy foursome, although I suppose that does rather sound as though I'm trying to push your father and Mrs Hall together, heaven forbid." He moved Largo slightly in front of her, taking the lead as they made their way through a narrow pass before emerging back out into the open countryside.

"I love you," she said suddenly, feeling an overwhelming sense of happiness wash over her. "This 'as been the best birthday I've 'ad in a long time."

"I love you too," he replied, "and I'm glad that you're happy. That's all I could ever hope for. Well, that and Tristan eventually qualifying and saving me from aging too much before my time."

"You're not old."

"Sometimes I feel it. I hope you understand that your future husband is over forty, Lily."

"A man of experience then."

He looked over at her and laughed, "Yes, I suppose so, and I suppose _I_ shall be the envy of all my peers having secured the affections of a younger woman."

"Maybe not, when you consider 'ow many things you 'ave to teach me."

"Your learning is coming along quite well."

"I wasn't necessarily referring to my veterinary studies," she looked sideways at him.

"No, nor was I."

A slight ripple ran through her at the low richness of his voice and she was about to say something more when a fat drop of water suddenly landed on her head and she looked upwards to the sky as it rapidly darkened. Rain started to fall, intermittently at first, then persistently, growing heavier with each passing second until she could feel it starting to soak through her coat.

"We need to find some shelter," Siegfried said, "follow me." He pushed Largo forwards into a trot and before she could remind him that this was the first time she had ever been on a horse, Aria followed suit, bouncing her wildly in the saddle and causing her to grab hold of fistfuls of mane to stop herself from sliding off. They traversed back into the tree line, the sky now so dark as to make it seem almost like twilight beneath the heavy canopy.

"Where are we going to go?!" she called above the noise of the battering rain.

"Up here! There's a cottage ahead!"

Blindly, she let Aria simply follow where Largo led and, moments later, a small stone structure appeared in front of them, its decrepit state leading her to believe that it must be unoccupied. One of the glass panes in the window was smashed and there was foliage sprouting from the chimney, but it seemed the only viable option. Siegfried pulled Largo to a halt and slid down, tying his reins around a nearby tree, before coming to assist her. She slid gratefully down onto the ground, similarly securing Aria alongside, before following him to the cottage door. To her surprise, with some force on his part, it creaked open, and they hurried inside out of the weather. Despite the broken glass, inside the cottage was relatively dry and a quick glance around revealed that it was one room, straw and wood chippings littering the ground, a small, neat stack of haybales in one corner.

"It must be an old estate worker's cottage," Siegfried remarked. "Looks as though it hasn't been used for years, except for storing hay."

"Why would someone store 'ay away out 'ere?"

"I have no idea."

"At least it's dry," she said, taking off her coat and shaking it before draping it over what looked like the remains of an old stone fire pit. She could feel a trickle of water slide down her back and she stamped her feet and shivered.

"Pity there's no matches," he said, glancing around. "We could have made a fire."

"And 'ow would we 'ave put it out again?"

"Ah, good point. I doubt Lord and Lady Hulton would be too pleased if we started a wildfire." He took off his own coat. "You look frozen."

"Well, it is the middle of winter." She pulled the clip from her hair and shook it loose, the ends curling with the effect of the rain. "Only fools like us would think it a good idea to go 'orseback riding on a day like today."

"Well, we can't always predict the weather."

"No, I suppose not." She glanced towards the window. "Reckon it'll last long?"

"I'm not sure. Here, let me warm you up." Pulling her in close to him, he began rubbing his hands up and down her arms. "We'll wait for a break and then head on back. How have you found it on Aria so far?"

"It's a bit uncomfortable, but not unpleasant. The more times I do it, the better it'll be I suppose."

"Indeed, as with most things." He ran his fingers through the wet tendrils of her hair then, cupping his face with his hand, leant in to kiss her.

She acquiesced, opening her mouth to accept him, enjoying the feelings that being close to him created. Then she pulled back and glanced around again. "Do you think people used to live in 'ere?"

"I would imagine so."

"It's not very big."

"It seems fairly adequate to me. Water from the stream over yonder, fire over there for heat and cooking," he gestured to the pit, "and, presumably, a bed over here where the hay is. Ideal I'd say. In fact, quite romantic."

"Romantic?"

"Yes, imagine being alone out here, nothing around you but the trees and the birds…" he moved towards her again, sliding his arms around her waist and pulling her in close for another long, lingering kiss.

"Siegfried…"

"What?" he asked softly when they broke apart. "Can a man not kiss his intended?"

"Oh 'e can kiss 'er, but 'e might do well to remember what 'e said a few weeks ago."

"And what was that?"

"That it shouldn't 'appen again until we were married."

"What, kissing?" he raised his eyebrows. "In that case, I fear that all is already lost."

"You know exactly what I mean…" she said as his mouth found hers again and she felt herself melt into his arms, the cold and wet seemingly forgotten in the sweetness of the moment. His hands roamed over her body, pulling her sweater out from where it was tucked into her trousers and over her head, before tossing it to one side. "I thought we agreed…" she murmured, even as she found herself assisting him in the removal of his own sweater, her fingers straying automatically to the buttons on his shirt underneath.

"One thing you will come to learn about me, my darling," he replied, his mouth moving down her throat. "Is that I have a terrible memory…"

"I don't believe that for a moment," she pushed his shirt from his shoulders. "You wouldn't be able to practice as you do if you didn't 'ave a good memory."

He threaded his fingers through her hair and pulled back so his gaze could meet hers. "Well, let's call it a selective memory then."

"I suppose that sounds more accurate."

He kissed her again, deeper and harder, and she felt desire and need course through her, the likes of which she almost felt as though she had never experienced before. The first time they had made love she had been unsure, nervous even, a novice in the act and all that it entailed. This time, whilst not perhaps practiced, she felt more confident, more sure of what would happen, how it would make her feel and, crucially, how much she needed it. In their interactions since that night there had been no real opportunity presented for repetition and though she had convinced herself that waiting was a perfectly viable option, touching him and being touched in return made her realise that she couldn't deny him, nor did she want to. She felt her nipples harden, goose bumps rise on her flesh and a hot throb begin strumming between her thighs.

In a tangle of hastily removed clothing and bursts of punctured breath, they sank down onto the discarded hay bales and she squealed slightly at the sensation of it against her bare back.

"Is it too uncomfortable?" he asked, lifting his mouth from her chest. "Do you want to stop?"

"No, do you?"

"No," his mouth found hers again, as her legs curled instinctively around his waist. Unlike before, he sank quickly inside of her and she heard herself cry out against his mouth, though not with anything akin to pain. She felt wet and slippery and his thrusts came and went with ease, his face buried in her neck. "Oh…Lily…"

She clung to him, enjoying the sensation of him moving inside her, feeling her breath taken away with almost every stroke and she closed her eyes, delighting in it all, reminding herself that she had a lifetime of lovemaking like this awaiting her once they were married. She felt as though she were in a haze, the world around her growing misty at the edges until, quite suddenly, she felt him move beneath her, pull her up and over him so that he was lying on his back looking up at her, their bodies still intimately connected. Before she could question him, he ran his hands up her torso to her breasts and then back down to her hips, moving her against him in time with his motions, pulsating up and into her, the very action causing the sweetest of sensations to burn through her body.

As though it had happened a thousand times before, she found herself moving in time with him, her body recognising what felt pleasing to her and demanding that it continue. She arched her back away from him, her head falling backwards, and when she made to look down at him again, saw that his gaze was locked on her, his eyes heavy with desire. Like dance partners who knew exactly how the other moved, he pushed himself upwards at the same time as she pulled him to her, so that his head was against her chest, his mouth seeking and finding her breasts again as their hips rocked together.

She could feel the blessed release coming, the same sensation that had swarmed through her the last time, frightening her in its heat and intensity. She wanted to cry out and yet she was almost afraid to let go, afraid to give voice to her own pleasure, lest someone hear and think less of her for it. And yet, who was there to hear except him, and why would she not want him to hear it, not want him to know the strength of the physical feelings he evoked within her?

To her own ears her cries sounded as though they were coming from somewhere far away and she writhed against him, unable to control her own body as her release pulsated through her. It was painful and yet wonderful at the same time and as she fell over the cliff and crashed down the other side, she heard his own moans of pleasure, felt him jerk hard inside her before they both collapsed back onto the hay together.

For a moment she simply lay across him, her chest rising and falling in the aftermath of the exertion, his skin sheened with sweat under her touch. It felt surreal somehow, as if this couldn't be her life, as if this man couldn't possibly want her, need her, as strongly as he did, nor she need him. For someone who had never known the touch of a man to now be fornicating on bales on hay in an abandoned cottage…the thought made her giggle.

"What's so amusing?" he asked.

She lifted her head to look down at him, "Nothing really. It just makes me laugh thinking on 'ow my life has changed recently."

"For the better, I hope."

"Absolutely," she brushed her lips against his. "Without a doubt."

By the time they had re-dressed, the rain had stopped, and the sun was poking through the canopy of trees. Stepping back out into the fresh breeze made her shiver again and, quite without warning, he pulled her into his arms again.

"You were wonderful."

She felt her cheeks pink slightly, unfamiliar with such praise. "I'm not sure 'ow you can say that. I'm still new to all this."

"I said earlier that your learning was coming on very well. I do hope you get _some_ pleasure out of it."

"Do you really 'ave to ask me that question? Could you not tell?"

"Indeed I could. A gentleman doesn't like to assume, however." He tightened his arms around her and sighed, "It really _can't_ happen again though."

"You initiated it," she laughed.

"I know, does it make you think badly of me?"

"Making love to me? Making me feel and experience things I've never felt or experienced before, wonderful things? 'ow could I 'ever think badly of you for that? When you touch me, I feel…I don't know…like me whole body's just…singing." She felt herself blush again but strangely felt no shame in expressing how she felt. "If you tell me now that we're not going to do that again until the end of January…"

"Opportunities are few and far between. Mrs Hall is always at Skeldale House and your father is always at Windy Hill. Unless you're suggesting that we arrange clandestine rendezvous at this cottage on a regular basis…"

"No offence, but I think I preferred making love with you in me bed than on an 'aybale."

"I don't recall you complaining too vociferously."

"Well, I 'ad other things on me mind…" she kissed him, "although…"

"Although what?"

"If I were a suspicious person, I might say that you 'ad planned this."

"Planned what, exactly?"

"A ride on an afternoon like this when the weather was questionable, a ride down a track that led to this cottage where we would 'ave to take shelter and where you could…well…take me…"

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about, but I can't help but feel rather pleased that you consider me capable of such deception. Now that you've planted the seed, I must think about other places I could…take you."

She laughed and pressed herself against him. "Well, perhaps right now, you could take me back to Hulton Hall. I'll 'ave to go 'ome and change before I can be seen at dinner, whether it just be the four of us or not." He helped her back into the saddle and, as they turned back towards the track, a question suddenly came into her mind. "Siegfried?"

"Yes?"

"Is it normal to do it like that?"

"Is it normal to do what like what?"

"Is it normal to make love with, well, the woman on top?"

He paused before replying. "I suppose so. I confess I hadn't really thought about it before. It seemed a perfectly natural thing to do in the moment. Did you like it that way?"

"Yes," she smiled. "Very much."

"Good," he smiled back at her. "I shall have to remember that."


	26. Chapter 26

**Christmas Eve 1931**

"I _love_ Christmas!" Tristan declared, waltzing into the kitchen and taking in a long, appreciative breath. "The food…the drink…the festivities…I mean, what could be better?"

Siegfried looked up from where he was finishing his breakfast and shot his brother an indulgent, yet mildly despairing look. "Well, you certainly know how to eat, drink and be merry, I'll give you that."

"Better than being an old Scrooge."

"Oh, and is that what I am?"

"Not at all, not this year," Tristan replied, flopping down into the chair opposite. "In fact, big brother, you're practically _brimming_ with festive cheer yourself. It practically _oozes_ out of you and has been doing so ever since I arrived home."

"And you believe this…joviality…is down to your return, do you?"

"No, I'm not simple enough to think that, though I do hope you are _somewhat_ glad to see me. No…" Tristan smiled devilishly, "it has far more to do with a certain fiery-haired young lady that I'm looking forward to seeing later today. Though quite why you see fit to drag me or Lily on your rounds with you today of all days I have no idea."

"Animals still need caring for, even on Christmas Eve."

"You'll be delivering lambs and calves before lunch at Windy Hill tomorrow then."

"Well, hopefully not. It'll be nice to have some time off, I grant you."

"Time to spend with Lily…?"

"Yes of course, and with you. This shall be our last Christmas as two bachelor brothers. As of January 30th, I shall be a married man." Even as he said the words Siegfried felt a warm rush of happiness at the prospect. A new year, a new life…a new wife. Moving to Darrowby had certainly turned out to be one of the best decisions he had ever made, even if it had taken some time to realise.

"Well at least _try_ and retain some bachelor spirit," Tristan remarked. "People become so _boring_ when they get married, although in your case I'm not sure if that's possible."

"At least I'm being responsible, unlike someone sitting not too far from me."

"I'm eighteen, I'm not meant to be responsible yet. It's not natural."

"Can't you two find something more productive to do than take swipes at each other?" Mrs Hall sighed, coming into the kitchen holding the day's post. "Sometimes I think you're _both_ still teenagers."

"Well, that's just preposterous," Siegfried replied. "And you'd do well to remember, Tristan, that when Lily _does_ come to live here, I'll be expecting you to mind your manners."

"Oh, Lily's a woman of the world and she lives on a farm. I doubt she's no stranger to some bawdy language."

"'ere," Mrs Hall passed him a letter before he could see fit to respond. "This came for you."

Siegfried glanced at the address before turning and slitting open the envelope. The handwriting looked familiar, but it wasn't until he started to read the words that he recognised the author. "Oh, it's from Peter."

"Peter?" Mrs Hall questioned.

"Not _Pervy Perkins,_ " Tristan groaned, spearing a sausage with his fork. "What does _he_ want?"

"He's coming to visit," Siegfried replied, his eyes scanning the prose. "For a few days on the 30th."

"He's not staying here."

"No, he says he's already secured lodgings in the village and that he's looking forward to catching up on all the news. Well…" he folded the letter back into the envelope. "That _is_ nice."

"No, it isn't," Tristan said.

"Tristan, I wish you would at least _pretend_ to like him, for my sake."

"The man's a deviant."

"Tristan!" Mrs Hall gasped.

"Well, he is. He's, what, forty, unmarried, no children, no obvious interest in women…there's no question about it. Plus, I've seen with my own eyes how he gets when he's around other men."

"That's complete nonsense," Siegfried sighed. " _I'm_ forty, unmarried with no children. Does that make _me_ a deviant too?"

"Well of course not. You had Evelyn and soon you'll have Lily. It's not the same thing at all."

"Who is 'e?" Mrs Hall enquired.

"He's a friend of mine from university. We trained together. He lives just outside of London, has his own practice down there. I haven't seen him for, oh, must be four or five years now. I think it's lovely that he's decided to come for a visit. I'll be able to introduce him to Lily."

"Well at least you're in no danger of him stealing her from you," Tristan said.

"And I do hope that I can count on you to be hospitable," Siegfried sighed, glaring at him. "Peter is my friend and, as such, I expect him to be treated with respect."

" _You_ can treat him any way you like," Tristan replied. " _I_ won't be here."

At the risk of the breakfast table descending into a further squabble, Siegfried elected to keep any further thoughts on the matter to himself. Once finished, he headed through to the dispensary simply to ensure that all the stock was up to date and tidy before the festive break and then retrieved his list from the surgery, mentally running through each name on it and how long each call might take. As he pondered, Mrs Hall appeared at the doorway, glancing behind herself before she spoke.

"Is 'e _really_ a deviant?"

"Mrs Hall…" he sighed, "I thought better of you than to put any stock in Tristan's ramblings. Peter is a lovely man who…may, perhaps…prefer the company of men to that of women. But what he does in his private life is nobody's concern other than his own. He's perfectly pleasant, a gentleman in fact, and I would feel more secure in his company than I would in most. I'd thank you _not_ to encourage Tristan in spreading such vicious rumours."

"You don't think 'e would spread it around the village, do you?"

"I sincerely hope not, for all our sakes. Now," he turned back to the list. "It's a very full list today so I hope…" the sound of the doorbell broke into his thoughts. "Ah, that should be Lily."

"I'll let 'er in," Mrs Hall disappeared leaving him to go through his bag, ensuring that everything he might need was there before they set off. A shadow suddenly fell across him and he looked up to see Lily standing in the surgery doorway.

"Good morning," he greeted her warmly, the very sight of her enough to lift his mood.

"Good morning," she replied, smiling as he kissed her cheek. "All set for a busy day?"

"Yes, though hopefully we'll be back in time for dinner. Tristan's _thrilled_ at the prospect of coming out with us."

"As a budding vet 'imself you'd think 'e'd welcome the opportunity to see things in practice."

"Yes…" he mused. "That's what worries me sometimes."

"What?"

"That he doesn't actually want to _be_ a vet at all."

Lily frowned as he lifted his bag and closed over the surgery door before moving to the coat stand. "But why would he go to university if 'e didn't want to be a vet?"

Siegfried shook his head, watching as his brother stuffed the last remnants of his breakfast into his mouth before rising, somewhat reluctantly, from the table. "I honestly have no idea."

XXXX

"A deviant?" Lily half-turned in her seat to look at Tristan, ensconced as he was in the back of Siegfried's car, unsure if she had heard correctly. "Really?"

"Yes, really."

"No, not really," Siegfried interrupted in an exasperated tone. "Honestly Tristan, have you _nothing_ else to talk about other than this? It's highly inappropriate!"

"Why, because Lily's here? I think she should know a few things about your _friend_ before she meets him."

"When is 'e coming?"

"On the 30th. He's staying for a few days."

"Well, it'll be nice to meet one of your friends."

"Are you serious?" Tristan exclaimed. "Have you not heard a word I've said?"

"Yes, Tristan, I 'ave, but unlike you, I'm not prepared to judge a man I've never met. And even if 'e is a…deviant…as you say…"

"Yes?"

She paused, unsure exactly how to answer. She had never met someone who might be considered a _deviant_ as it were. It certainly wasn't something one found in the environs of Darrowby and, even if there was any such person living close by, it wasn't something that would be readily discussed, even by local village gossips. Now that Tristan had brought it up, however, she couldn't help but wonder about men who preferred other men to women. Glancing over at Siegfried she could tell exactly why _she_ found him attractive, not just in looks but in personality and character. Was it really that hard to understand why someone of the same sex might think similarly? And should a person be castigated for such thoughts?

" _Yes?"_ Tristan pressed, breaking into her musings.

"Well, it's not really any of our business, is it? If 'e's not 'urting anyone."

"Exactly," Siegfried said, "thank you."

"How do you know he's not hurting anyone though?"

"Just by preferring a man over a woman? I bet there's more men who 'urt women than men who 'urt men. Besides, 'ow do you know for sure that 'e's even that way inclined?"

"Because I've seen how he behaves. That last time we met him, before Father died, Siegfried. It was obvious."

"It was _not_ obvious. It was your immature little brain picking up on things that weren't there. And even if they were, as Lily said, it's none of our business. Now, can we change the subject please? We've got a lot to get through today." He swung the car into the yard at George Sharp's farm and switched off the engine. "And not a word about your horrible little thoughts to anyone, Tristan, do you hear?"

"Well, I'm hardly likely to start spreading it around that someone like that is going to be celebrating the new year with us, am I?" Tristan replied sourly as Siegfried pulled the seat forwards to allow him to get out of the car.

"Not. One. Word."

"Morning," George emerged from around the corner and greeted them all warmly. "Three of you today? I _am_ honoured."

"Well, you know what they say, George, many hands make light work," Siegfried replied. "Nothing like having two assistants."

"I should say so." He nodded at Tristan and then touched his cap briefly as he turned to her. "Lily."

"Good morning Mr Sharp," she replied. "What seems to be the trouble today then?" The moment the words had left her mouth, she glanced quickly at Siegfried, worried in case he felt she had overstepped by taking control of the conversation, but he merely smiled at her encouragingly.

"Got a problem with a couple of our ewes. Displaying some mighty odd behaviour, if you ask me."

"Well, let's take a look then," Siegfried replied. "Do lead the way."

Lily fell into step beside him as they followed George around the side of the farmhouse and down towards the shed where the sheep were currently penned. Glancing behind, she saw Tristan meandering at the rear, his interest clearly _not_ piqued by the idea of examining any animals, and couldn't help thinking back over Siegfried's musings that perhaps he really had no interest in being a vet at all. Before she could think any more on it, however, they had reached their destination, the shed echoing in a cacophony of bleating.

"I've kept them separate, round the back 'ere," George said, leading the way towards a separate pen near the rear, which housed three sheep. Even to an untrained eye, Lily could see that there was something wrong with them. They looked painfully thin, one was lying on its side and the other was wandering aimlessly around the pen, excess saliva oozing from its mouth.

"How long have they been like this?" Siegfried asked, putting his bag down on the ground.

"Started a couple of days ago." George pointed to the one on its side. "She went first, then the other two. I just don't understand it."

"Tristan?"

"What?"

"What do you think?" Siegfried asked, his expression bordering on the irritated.

"Oh…well…" Tristan stepped forwards and looked over the fence. Lily watched the expression on his face, his mind clearly racing, trying to come up with an appropriate answer. "They look…well…a bit dehydrated."

"I've been trying to get them to drink, but they 'aven't seemed overly interested."

"Their diet?" he tried again.

"They've been out in the field with the rest of the flock, but these three are the only ones showing any signs of not being right lately."

Lily waited to see if Siegfried would ask her for her opinion, not that she had one, but instead he climbed over the fence and stepped into the pen, taking hold of the ewe that was moving around and closely examining her face, before turning to the others. Glancing at Tristan, she could see he remained equally as baffled, though the air of concern his brother was exhibiting had at least had the effect of removing the element of boredom from his expression.

"Weight loss, disorientation, excess salivation…" Siegfried turned back. "I'd say it was listeriosis."

George frowned, "Listeri-what?"

"Listeriosis. It's a bacterial infection caused by _listeria monocytogenes._ It can be found in the soil, or in pastures where there's waste containing the bacteria." He paused. "You said these were the only ones showing signs of not being right lately, does that mean you've had problems like this before?"

"I 'ad a couple of ewes die a few weeks back, but I never say them acting like this. Why?"

"It may well be that the others had it too and these ones have inadvertently consumed their infected waste."

"'ow do you treat it?" Lily asked.

"Well, I'm afraid that I don't hold out much hope for this one," Siegfried gestured to the ewe lying on the ground. "These other two may be saved with a shot of tetracycline. Tristan…" he gestured to his bag which his brother passed over the fence, and began rooting inside. "Fortunately, I do have some here." Lily watched as he retrieved a small glass vial from the bag, uncapped a syringe and drew in the liquid. "Lily, can you come and hold her please?" Climbing over the fence herself, she gingerly took hold of the ewe, who immediately struggled and tried to move away. "That's it, hold her still…" she watched as he jabbed her between the shoulder blades and depressed the plunger before repeating the process with the second ewe. Once completed, he straightened up and looked at George again. "I can deal with this one now too, if you'd like."

"Aye…" George replied, his face pale. "Do what you 'ave to do."

"Do you want me to assist?" Tristan asked.

"No, Lily's doing fine," Siegfried replied, taking a second syringe and drawing liquid from a different vial. "This should be quite peaceful. Lily, can you take her head please?" Once again, she did as she was asked and, almost subconsciously, heard herself murmur words of comfort to the ewe as the needle disappeared between her wool. The animal shook slightly then grew heavy in her hands and, moments later, she realised that she had gone. "Right, you'll need to try and clear the pasture where they've been grazing, make sure there's no more infected waste. If any of the others start to show any symptoms, you need to isolate them and contact me. They'll need the same treatment as these if they catch it."

"'ow long will it take to show up?" George asked.

"Days, weeks sometimes. You'll need to keep a close eye. And avoid any mixed grazing for a while, if you can. If this starts to spread amongst different farms, then it can quickly turn into an epidemic. Also, you can't sell any that have been infected, for obvious reasons."

"Aye, I know the drill. Thank you, Mr Farnon."

"Not at all. I'm only sorry it's not a better diagnosis."

As they made their way back to the car, Lily couldn't help but think how devastated George Sharp looked, almost as though Siegfried had told him a member of his immediate family was at risk, rather than just a few sheep. And yet, being a farmer's daughter herself, she knew how much like family any animal could become.

"I actually thought he was going to cry," Tristan said, as the piled back inside. "A grown man, crying over some sheep."

"You have to treat the person as well as the animal. It's his livelihood," Siegfried said, starting the engine.

"Even so…"

"It's 'is family," she said, turning to look at him. "If you'd ever lived on a farm, you'd know that."

"Well, that's unlikely to happen, isn't it? Unless I marry a farmer's daughter."

"And why not?" Siegfried asked, shooting her a knowing look. "That's what I'm doing."

"You're not going to live at Windy Hill though, are you? Lily's coming to live at Skeldale House you know, where we have more _normal_ animals as pets."

"Yes, she is," he replied, and a warm feeling spread through her at the softness of his gaze. "She most certainly is."

XXXX

It was after five o'clock by the time they returned to Skeldale House and Siegfried couldn't help but feel exhausted by the demands of the day. They had visited ten farms in total and, much to his delight, Lily had proved a worthwhile companion, offering an opinion when asked for and making educated guesses based on what she had previously seen or read. For someone who had never undertaken any formal education or training, he couldn't help but be impressed by her and the fantasy of her working professionally alongside him seemed more attainable than ever. Tristan, on the other hand, had proved practically useless and had made little secret of the fact that he didn't consider the day's events as a good use of his time on Christmas Eve. He was almost grateful when his brother made a beeline for the Drovers, though he deliberately reminded him in no uncertain terms what time dinner was meant to be.

"Nice to see you back," Mrs Hall greeted him and Lily as they came inside. "Busy day then?"

"Very," he replied wearily. "But thankfully all taken care of, for a few days at least."

"Dinner should be ready by six. I put your bag upstairs in my room, Lily love, and there's a bowl there for you to freshen up in."

"Oh, thank you," she replied, glancing down at her muddy clothes. "It's a good thing I thought to bring a change of clothes for dinner. I'd 'ate to 'ave to sit down looking like this."

"Yes, I agree." He examined his own scuffed attire. "Shall we meet back downstairs in, say, fifteen minutes?"

"That should, in theory, give me plenty of time to look respectable," she laughed, turning for the stairs. "I'm not sure about in practice."

He watched as she climbed up towards the first floor and couldn't help but think how at home she looked, engaged even in such a simple action. In just over a month, it would be entirely normal and proper for her to climb those very stairs, mistress of the house as she would be, only she would be bound for his own bedroom rather than Mrs Hall's.

"Our bedroom," he said softly to himself, making his way along the corridor to the far end where his room was located at the back of the house. The notion of sharing a room, a closet, a bed, seemed more welcome to him than he could have ever thought, given how long he had had all those things to himself. At times he had wondered if it would feel claustrophobic, having her with him there, but the notion of how wonderful it would be far outweighed any lingering anxiety on that score. He washed quickly at the basin, took off his clothes and was perusing his wardrobe for a clean shirt when there was a soft knock at the door. Before he had time to ask whoever it was to wait a moment, the door opened and Lily dashed inside, closing it quickly behind her. "What…?" he started, his eyes drawn instantly to the fact that she was wearing only her slip. "What are you doing?"

"Taking advantage of an opportunity," she replied, slightly breathlessly. "Much like you and the cottage the other week."

She had frequently mentioned the cottage in passing since her birthday and he had found himself defending his innocence on every occasion, including this one. "I had no concept of it raining and there being a convenient cottage for us to shelter in," he argued, acutely aware that that wasn't really the point. "You can't be in here."

"Why not?"

"Because…well, Mrs Hall is downstairs, and Tristan could come back at any moment…"

"And would they come in unannounced?"

"Mrs Hall, no, but Tristan possibly and if either of them were to find you in here wearing…" he broke off suddenly as she pulled her slip over her head and dropped it onto the floor, leaving her before him completely and utterly naked. "You're…you're not wearing any undergarments."

"Well spotted," she grinned. "I thought it might be quicker this way."

"What might be quicker?" he asked somewhat redundantly, feeling his body react at the very sight of her. "We can't…not here…"

"It'll be our bedroom soon, won't it?"

"Yes, but…"

"Well then. We've 'ardly demonstrated so far that we're puritans when it comes to the sins of the flesh outside of wedlock, even if you _do_ keep trying to convince yourself that we should wait." She paused. "Unless you don't want to."

"I'm sure you're _quite_ capable of recognising that that isn't the case."

"So…?"

He sighed heavily, yet found himself moving towards her, his fingers straying to her hair, the heat from her body profoundly evident, even before he had touched her. He felt as though he could almost smell her skin, a familiar odour that excited him more than he cared to admit. She slid her arms around him, pulling him into her, smiling up at him as he felt himself press insistently against her. Making love alone at Windy Hill or in the cottage had been one thing, but the thought of Mrs Hall or Tristan finding them…the anxiety of that thought in fact only served to increase his desire and as he kissed her, he dropped one hand to the area between her thighs, stroking gently and then sliding within gratified, and a little shocked, to find her wet and clearly willing.

"Do you think me quite wanton?" she asked, pulling back slightly. "Desiring you as I do?"

" _Quite_ wanton? I think you _exceedingly_ wanton and highly desirable in return." In one fluid movement, he withdrew his hand and lifted her up into his arms, pressing her back against the door, her legs curling around his waist as he pushed inside her. "You realise, of course, that by doing this in my bedroom, it will be all I'll be able to think about every time I come inside from now on."

"'ow do you think I feel in _my_ bedroom?" she replied with a laugh, gasping as he withdrew and then pushed inside her again. "I've never 'ad any other man there. 'ave you 'ad any other woman in 'ere?"

"You don't really need me to answer that, do you?" he breathed.

"No, I don't…" she gasped again as he repeatedly plundered then withdrew from her, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close, a muted banging sound emitting from the door with the pressure of each stroke.

As though she weighed nothing at all, he moved away and turned for the bed, almost tripping as they sank down onto it together, his thrusts continuing uninterrupted. His need for her meant that time was not a factor that need be given too much consideration. Within moments, he felt himself hurtling towards the cliff edge and he buried his face in her neck to stifle his groans of pleasure as he climaxed inside her.

"Well…" she said, as he fought to regain control of his own breathing. "That was worth it, wasn't it?"

"Every time with you is worth it," he replied, lifting his head to look at her. "You're the most wonderful, beautiful woman I've ever met." He paused suddenly at the sound of a noise from below them. "I'd very much like to return the pleasure but…"

"Don't worry," she replied, "it can wait."

"Siegfried?!" Tristan's voice floated up towards them. "Siegfried, are you up there?"

"Oh Lord," he gasped, pulling himself quickly up and out of her at the sound of tread on the stairs. "He's coming."

"'e won't come in, will 'e?" Lily asked, as he lifted her slip from the floor and threw it to her.

"Siegfried?" Tristan's voice was closer now, right outside the door. "Are you in there?"

"Yes," he replied. "What is it?"

"Is Lily still here?"

He glanced over her. "How do you mean?"

"What do you mean, how do I mean? I mean, is she still in the house. I can't find her."

"She's…I believe she's changing in Mrs Hall's room."

"Oh."

" _Don't_ go in there!" he exclaimed.

There was a brief pause on the other side of the door. "I wasn't planning to. Unlike _some_ people I could mention, _I'm_ not a pervert. I'll go back downstairs and wait. But hurry up, will you. It's Christmas Eve, we should be celebrating."

"Yes, yes, give me five minutes." He waited until the sound of his brother's footsteps faded away before turning back to face her. "You'll need to get back to Mrs Hall's room before anyone sees you."

"Well. it's only just down the 'all, I reckon I can manage if I'm quick," she replied, pulling her slip over her head and joining him at the door. "The next time you see me, I promise I'll be wearing more clothes."

He pulled her to him and kissed her hungrily, "And I shall only be able to think of you as you are now. But Lily…"

"Don't say it," she said, putting her fingers gently to his lips, her other hand finding its way to the door handle, ready for flight. "I've 'eard it all before, but as you yourself said, you're terribly inconsistent." She opened the door a crack and peered out before turning back and brushing her lips against his. "Merry Christmas my love."


	27. Chapter 27

**30** **th** **December 1931**

The sun was shining brightly in the sky and, despite the chillness of the wind, Siegfried felt perfectly happy as he drove towards the train station to collect Peter. Christmas, so far, had been a roaring success. Lily had hosted at Windy Hill and they had all gathered there as a very amiable company. Tristan had behaved himself and Tom had even participated in the joviality of the occasion, something which he had been very grateful for, for Lily's sake if nothing else. He wasn't sure that he had ever seen her so happy and it made him swell with pride that he was partly responsible for that. He couldn't help but think ahead to Christmas 1932 when she would be his wife, perhaps they might even have a child or one on the way. The future seemed so bright and it made every mundane aspect of each day so much easier to deal with.

And now, he was about to meet one of his oldest friends, someone he hadn't seen for longer than he felt comfortable admitting. Peter had always been a good friend, a true friend, despite Tristan's baseless accusations about his character and he only felt sorrow, and some shame, that it that it had taken so long for them to be in each other's company again.

"Do I _have_ to be here for dinner?" Tristan had lamented earlier that morning. "I'd far rather being out doing something fun than stuck in here having to watch my back."

"You will be here and you will be gracious and welcoming," he had replied, furious beyond measure at his brother's crudity yet equally determined that it wouldn't spoil his good humour. "After that you may be as you please." To his relief, Mrs Hall had agreed with his sentiment and, faced with matriarchal authority, Tristan had seemed to wilt into acceptance, though he was under no illusion that the meal could be fraught be difficulty.

He reached the station just before the train arrived and, as he stood waiting on the platform, he couldn't help but think back to his own arrival in Darrowby and all the feelings that had generated within him. If only he had known where electing to relocate there would have led. In the distance, the train sounded its whistle and, moments later, it drew into the platform with a puff of steam. As he watched the passengers disembark, he found himself scanning the faces for that of his friend, momentarily concerned that he had perhaps met the wrong train. Then, a familiar face appeared in front of him, a wide smile spread across it.

"Siegfried!"

"Peter!" he allowed the other man to envelop him in an unmanly embrace. "Jolly good to see you!"

"And you!" Peter pulled back and surveyed him critically. "You look so well!"

Siegfried paused momentarily, wishing that he could easily say the same. Peter had changed in the years since he had last seen him. His figure wasn't as robust as it once had been and his pallor was tinged with grey, but the latter could have been as a result of the long journey and he smiled despite his misgivings. "As do you. It's been too long, far too long."

"My fault as much as it is yours. But it's lovely to be here now. I'm looking forward to seeing Darrowby and meeting your fiancée of course. From everything you've told me, she's quite something."

Siegfried blushed as they began walking back to the car, remembering how he had waxed eloquently about Lily when he had spoken to Peter on the phone only realising later how he had monopolised the conversation. Ever the gentleman, however, Peter hadn't intervened to stop him. "She's looking forward to meeting you at dinner this evening. How was your journey? You must be tired."

"Yes, it was rather long," Peter admitted. "But I'm glad to be here now, and at least the sun is shining."

"Yes, there is that." Siegfried put his friend's belongings into the car and then, once both on board, slowly pulled away from the kerb to make the journey back to the village. As they drove, Peter chatted about his practice and his housekeeper, a fearsome sounding woman who was not to be trifled with. It made him very glad indeed to have found Mrs Hall. "Well, I suppose Mrs Jones will be pleased to have you out of her hair for a few days then."

"Oh indubitably. And I'm rather pleased to be out of it myself." He sighed and looked out at the passing scenery. "You really do live in a wonderful part of the world, Siegfried."

"As do you. You have rolling fields around you."

"Not like this, nothing like this. It makes me feel…almost melancholy…that I chose to practice so near the city. Not that I have little work, on the contrary, but I can imagine that dealing with farm animals must be more rewarding than cats and dogs and the like."

"They all need taken care of."

"Yes, I suppose they do. Much like people."

Though he found the other man's comment intriguing, Siegfried elected not to enquire as to his meaning at that time, concentrating instead on winding his way through the streets of Darrowby before pulling up in front of Skeldale House.

"How charming!" Peter said, stepping out of the car. "The whole village is quite something."

"Yes, it is rather lovely. You'll have some tea before I take you to Mrs Weatherby's guest house?"

"Oh, I don't want to put you out."

"Not at all! Mrs Hall would think very ill of me if I didn't invite you."

"But I'm already coming for dinner later."

"Yes, but she will have the tea tray all ready and though she may be more forgiving than your Mrs Jones, she still has a tongue on her that I do hate to feel the lash of."

"Well," Peter laughed. "I wouldn't want to be the cause of it."

"Good." Leading the way up the steps, Siegfried pushed open the front door and stepped inside, wiping his boots as he did so. "Mrs Hall?"

"Oh, you're back," she appeared from the sitting room. "And this must be your friend."

"Peter Perkins, my dear Mrs Hall," Peter said, stepping forward. "Enchanted to meet you."

"Oh, and the same to you," she replied, blushing slightly as he took her hand and gently kissed it. "You picked a nice day for it, at any rate."

"Yes, and I was just telling Siegfried how lovely Darrowby looks on first appearance."

"It 'as its moments. Sit yourself down, both of you, and I'll bring through the tea. You must 'ave a lot to catch up on."

"Shall we?" Siegfried gestured to the sitting room and Peter nodded in acquiescence, following him inside. "Oh good, the fire's lit. Nothing better than on a cold day like today." He rubbed his hands together at the warmth. "I know tea will be served shortly, but can I tempt you to anything else? Whisky perhaps?"

"Oh, no thank you," Peter replied.

"Really? You _do_ surprise me. You were never one to refuse a drink in the old days."

" _Old_ being the operative word. I'm not as young as I used to be. Come to mention it, neither are you."

"Peter, you're four months older than me, so hardly old. And _I'm_ in my prime."

"You wouldn't have said that a few years ago."

"No, I suppose not." Siegfried sat down in the armchair. "I suppose a lot has changed since we last met."

"Yes, not least of all the loss of your father."

"Yes, he was a good man," he mused, though hoping the conversation wouldn't stray any further in that direction.

"And, of course, your impending nuptials," Peter smiled. "I'm only sorry I won't still be here in a month's time."

"Oh, you must travel back, if you can. We'd be delighted to have you as a guest."

"Oh, I'm getting too old for travel now. Two trips in the space of a month seems rather excessive." Peter got to his feet and examined the bookcase. "Still an avid reader, I see."

"Well, most of them are professional texts, as you'll see, but there is the odd occasion when I might read something for pleasure."

"You always had a book in your hand at college. I remember Evelyn complaining that your nose was always stuck in some tome or another."

Siegfried paused, her image flashing before him. They had made a sort of threesome for a while. He, Peter and Evelyn. He knew that she had despaired sometimes of how dedicated he was to his studies to the detriment of time spent together. Perhaps…perhaps if he had known what would befall her, he might have done things differently…

"I must say, I never expected you to consider marrying again," Peter broke into his thoughts. "I took it that you had embraced everlasting bachelorhood, much like myself."

"Well, I'll admit that it wasn't something I had thought about, marrying again that is. Not until I met Lily."

"Yes, I'm keen to meet the creature who has changed you so dramatically." Peter smiled as Mrs Hall appeared with the tea tray. "Oh, scones! I do so love a scone."

"'omemade," she said proudly. "Mr Farnon's rather a fan."

"Oh, I confess I am, especially with your jam, Mrs Hall." He waited as she poured a cup for Peter and then one for himself. "Won't you join us?"

"I've still some preparation to do for this evening," she replied. "You pair enjoy catching up on old times."

"I must say, I certainly would never ask Mrs Jones to socialise with me in any way, shape or form," Peter said once they were alone again. "I rather think she might box my ears for even suggesting it."

"Mrs Hall is like family. Much like a sister in a way, I suppose." He sipped his tea. "And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Well, you spoke of embracing bachelorhood…has there really been no-one in recent times who might have turned your head, so to speak?" he held his breath slightly, wondering how his friend might respond, deliberately staying gender neutral in his question lest, heaven forbid, Tristan might be right. "Don't say that you're too old," he added when Peter remained silent. "I won't hear that."

"I've always been content with my own company, you know that."

"Yes, but…"

"Now, in my advancing years, I find myself quite unwilling to undertake the compromises that would be required for any sort of relationship. I enjoy my work, I have friends, a comfortable home…what more could a man ask for?"

"Not even…a companion? For cold, winter nights by the fire?"

"I have Bertie."

Siegfried paused, "Bertie?"

"Yes, he's a wonderful companion, keeps my feet warm, and will do anything for me so long as I give him a biscuit."

"A…a biscuit?"

"Yes," Peter looked at him. "He's a dog."

"Oh…oh of course!"

"What did you think he was?"

"Well, I…I wasn't altogether sure to be honest, but yes, what else could he possibly be?" He laughed and drank more of his tea, careful to avoid his friend's gaze. "I'd like to have a dog, but I've always been too busy to really think about it. And they can be very time-consuming."

"You don't need a dog. You'll have Lily to keep your feet warm," Peter smiled over the top of his cup. "And other places, I shouldn't wonder."

Siegfried felt himself blush at the insinuation. There was no way Peter could have known that he and Lily had already given in to carnal desires and he couldn't help but suddenly think of her, naked in his bedroom above, and how it had felt illicitly making love to her on Christmas Eve, the last moment when there had been occasion to do so. He had found himself acutely missing the warmth of her touch since then...

"Don't worry," Peter said. "I doubt you'll have forgotten how to do it."

"No…" he said, smothering a smile. "Doubtful indeed."

XXXX

"Will you be late?"

"I shouldn't think so," Lily replied, looking at herself critically in the mirror. "It's just dinner and then possibly a few drinks. I should be 'ome before midnight."

"Well, you enjoy yourself."

"I will, thank you." Turning to look at her father, she found herself still amazed at the change in his attitude of late. He seemed to have no concern at her spending time at the surgery, or with Siegfried and had spoken, with rather a lot of excitement, about the upcoming wedding. She couldn't help but wonder sometimes if he had undergone some sort of brain transplant behind her back. "What are you going to do?"

"Oh, read the paper and listen to the wireless I shouldn't wonder," he replied. "Once I've 'ad me dinner that is."

"Well, be careful taking it out of the oven," she cautioned, pulling on her gloves. "The last thing we need is you burning yourself."

"I'm sure I can manage," he replied, kissing her cheek briefly. "You be careful on the roads. It's cold enough for ice tonight."

With a reassuring smile and wave, she headed out into the yard and over to where the van was parked thinking, not for the first time, that she would be glad when she no longer had to drive it. Siegfried had told her that, once they were married, she could use his car whenever she needed it, and had even hinted that he might buy her one of her own. The thought in and of itself was exciting, never having really driven, much less owned, a car before.

As she wound her way slowly along the road towards Darrowby, she couldn't help but think on Siegfried's friend, Peter, and what he would be like. Tristan's comments still rang in her ears and she could only hope that there wouldn't be any awkwardness at the table. Sometimes, despite how he came across, Tristan's youth was patently obvious.

When she rang the bell at Skeldale House it was himself who answered, his face breaking into a smile when he saw her. "Lily Bailey!"

"Tristan Farnon," she greeted him in their way. "I 'ope you're behaving yourself."

"Do come in," he said, bowing comically as he opened the door wider for her. "All I can say is, thank the Lord you're here. All they've talked about is being a vet and all the different cases they've ever had in their whole working lives. You'd think there was nothing else in the world to discuss."

"I would 'ave thought that talk would 'ave interested you, given 'ow you're heading down the same path," she said, allowing him to take her coat. "Or aren't you enjoying your studies?"

Before Tristan could reply, Siegfried appeared in the hallway and swept her up into his arms. "Darling, you're here! I was beginning to think you'd got lost."

"Sorry, I were taking my time on the roads. Me dad was going on about it being icy."

"Yes, as he should," he kissed her briefly. "Come through, I want you to meet Peter." Taking hold of her hand, he propelled her into the sitting room and she found herself face to face with a tall, thin man with a wide smile who immediately came forwards to greet her. "Peter, this is Lily."

"Enchanted to meet you," he said, kissing her hand. "I'm sure it'll come as no surprise to learn that Siegfried has told me so much about you. But he certainly wasn't able to describe accurately how lovely you are."

"Oh…well…" she felt herself blush under the compliment. "It's lovely to meet you Peter. Siegfried's told me about you too."

"I doubt in such glowing terms." He surveyed her and then turned to Siegfried and nodded. "You've done very well for yourself Siegfried, I'll give you that."

Under his inspection and clear approval, Lily found herself struggling to see anything that might lead her to lend credence to Tristan's opinion of the other man's predilections and, as the conversation flowed easily from one topic to another, she found herself quite taken with him. Tristan, on the other hand, remained in the corner of the room, nursing a glass and looking thoroughly bored. At a convenient moment, whilst Peter and Siegfried reminisced about an old tutor, she wandered over to him. "Not enjoying yourself then?"

"It's as dull as ditch water," he replied with a sigh. "Honestly, the man lives near London. You'd think he'd have been to some parties or gatherings that might be marginally more interesting to talk about than treating dogs' anal glands."

Lily stifled a giggle. "I suppose when that's your life, that's what you talk about."

"Have you noticed…I mean…can you see anything that makes you think that he might be…?"

"Might be what?" she lowered her voice. "A deviant?"

"Well, exactly."

"No, I 'aven't, and you really need to stop peddling such a rumour, Tristan, it's not right. Even if 'e were that way inclined, which I'm not saying 'e is, it's nobody's business but 'is own."

Before Tristan could say anymore, Mrs Hall appeared in the doorway. "Dinner should be ready in about five minutes," she said, accepting a drink from Siegfried. "I 'ope you're all 'ungry."

"Well I'm famished," Siegfried replied. "Peter?"

"Yes," he replied slightly hesitantly. "I'm looking forward to tasting your creations, Mrs Hall."

"Oh, don't get too excited," she laughed.

Peter smiled, "Would you all excuse me for a moment before we eat? Siegfried?"

"Yes, of course," he gestured in the direction of the pantry. "Just through there."

"Thank you." Peter placed his glass on the side and then disappeared from the room.

"Well?" Siegfried came over to her. "What do you think?"

"I think 'e's very charming," she replied honestly. "And 'e seems to think a lot of you."

"Yes, he's such an old friend. It must be, oh, twenty years or more since we first met. He was probably the only person at university that I really bonded with." Tristan snorted. "And what's so funny about that?"

"Seems rather appropriate," he replied.

"Tristan…" Mrs Hall warned.

"What? I haven't said anything untoward, have I?"

"No, but you've been skulking in the corner like some sort of spectre all evening," Siegfried replied. "I wish you would make more of an effort to be cordial. It's only one night."

"Only it isn't only one night, is it? He's here for four days!"

"And after this evening you don't have to see him again if you don't want to, but please just try and inject a little more good grace into your demeanour…" he smiled as Peter reappeared. "Another drink, Peter?"

"No, not before dinner, thank you. Perhaps afterwards," Peter replied, glancing at her and smiling. "I'm keen to hear more about your forays into the world of veterinary medicine, Lily."

"Well let's do it over dinner, shall we?" Mrs Hall interjected. "I believe it should be ready now. Take your seats and I'll dish up."

Placing his hand on the small of her back, Siegfried propelled Lily over towards the dining table, positioning her on his right next to Tristan, Peter on his left with Mrs Hall. "I'm not sure I'm really qualified to speak about any aspect of veterinary medicine," she replied with a laugh.

"But Siegfried tells me that you've been going out and about with him and helping him here in the surgery."

"Yes, but…" she glanced at her fiancé. "I'm not sure how much real progress I'm making, or where it might lead."

"As I've told you before, you're making excellent progress and as for where it might lead, it all leads here, my darling, as well you know."

"Three Farnons' under one roof?" she teased, glancing at Tristan.

"Exactly."

"What a capital idea," Peter said. "A husband and wife practicing together, how novel. Is Darrowby ready for something so forward thinking?"

"Doubtful," she replied. "I'm sure a lot of folk still think I'm playing at it, or 'ave no business doing it."

"Nonsense," Peter said. "You have every right to do whatever makes you happy. In any event, if Siegfried here decides not to employ you, I will. I'm serious," he added on her look. "You'd be the toast of London town."

"Keep your ideas to yourself, Peter," Siegfried chided him jokingly. "Lily's not going anywhere near London, not without me at least."

Peter smiled and met her gaze again and Lily couldn't help but detect a note of wistfulness in his expression. "No, I don't blame you. Lovely creatures like her are hard won and not to be lost without a battle."

XXXX

"I think that went rather well, don't you?" Siegfried said, walking her to the van. It was almost midnight, the temperature had dropped, and he couldn't help but shiver in the night air, even under the warmth of his coat. "How did you find Peter?"

"Very charming," she replied. "And in no way that I could fathom, a deviant."

"No, I really don't know where Tristan has gotten that notion from," he sighed and shook his head. "At least he wasn't _completely_ rude, for that I have to be glad. I think Peter really rather liked you." He raised his eyebrow at her.

"Give over," she laughed. "'e were a perfect gentleman."

"Oh, apart from saying that he would spirit you away to London given half a chance."

"I don't think for one moment that 'e meant that in any romantic way whatsoever," she replied. "Besides, it would take something very wrong 'appening for me to want to leave 'ere…to want to leave you." She leant into him and kissed him, and he felt his insides flood with warmth at the connection.

"I shall hold you to that," he replied huskily, pulling her into him. "And many, _many_ other things to come. Make sure you drive home carefully."

"Now _you_ sound like me dad," she laughed. "I _do_ know 'ow to drive."

"You're a precious commodity. I'm not sure what I would do if anything were to happen to you."

"I promise, I'll be careful," she kissed him lightly and then opened the van door. "We'll be 'aving a few drinks in the Drovers tomorrow night then?"

"Oh absolutely. Nothing worse than spending New Year's Eve on your own. Peter said that he'd come and help me with surgery tomorrow, though Lord knows why he wants to when he's technically on holiday."

"You don't 'ave many patients tomorrow, do you?"

"No, just a few. Enough to ensure that he feels at home." He kissed her again. "Good night darling. I love you."

"I love you too."

He waited until she had driven around the corner and out of sight before heading back to the house where he found Peter pulling on his coat. "Care for another one before we call it a night?"

"Oh, no thank you," the other man replied. "It's been a lovely evening, Siegfried, truly it has, but I'm really quite fatigued. All the travelling has caught up with me I'm afraid. I rather think I'll be asleep the moment my head hits the pillow."

"You know, you really don't have to come here tomorrow for surgery," Siegfried cautioned.

"Not at all, I want to," Peter reassured him. "Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to work alongside you again, like the old days." He clapped him on the shoulder. "Well, goodnight then Farnon."

"Goodnight Perkins," he laughed. "You know how to get back to Mrs Weatherby's?"

"I doubt I'll get lost. Until tomorrow."

Farewells exchanged, Siegfried closed the door and turned to see Tristan standing in the hallway behind him. "Well, I hope you're satisfied with your behaviour this evening," he said. "Thankfully, I don't think Peter noticed."

"And he's coming back tomorrow?" Tristan asked disdainfully.

"Yes, to assist with surgery, which is a damn sight more than you do. Honestly, Tristan, for someone who claims to want to be a vet you show very little interest in the profession."

"Well maybe I don't want to _be_ a vet," Tristan scowled before turning away.


	28. Chapter 28

**31 December 1931**

"My, you have a lot of patients," Peter observed the following morning as he stood in the surgery watching the waiting area slowly filling up. "I wouldn't have thought it, not today."

"Why, because it's New Year's Eve?" Siegfried replied, checking around the room to ensure he had everything he needed. "You thought everyone would be in the pub already?"

"Well, no not quite. I just assumed people would have better things to do."

"You know as well as I do that one cannot legislate for when an animal becomes ill. Anyway, won't whomever is looking after your own surgery have patients today? Or do you make it a rule not to see anyone on the last day of the year?" The comment was meant in jest, but Siegfried couldn't help but notice how Peter looked away, his expression wistful, and he wondered not for the first time if there was something wrong. "Everything all right?"

"Oh yes, yes of course," Peter replied hurriedly. "Just homesick I suppose. Shall I show in the first patient?"

"I suppose so. The sooner we start, the sooner _we_ can have a drink."

The next few hours sped by as animal after animal was brought into the surgery. Two dogs, a cat, two rabbits, a ferret and, finally, a duck with a ring of plastic stuck around its neck. As he carefully removed it with scissors and wondered why the owner hadn't seen fit to do so herself, Siegfried caught sight of Peter watching from the corner, his eyes betraying a certain sadness that he found rather discomfiting and, as he bade the duck's owner on her way and closed the door over, he turned back to his friend with renewed determination.

"Right, spit it out."

Peter started suddenly and looked at him. "Spit what out?"

"Whatever it is that's bothering you. I know it's been some years since we've been in each other's company, Peter, but I've never seen you looking so…I don't rightly know how to describe it…melancholic? Something has clearly happened to put you in that state, or are you simply morose at the ending of another year?"

There was a lengthy silence before Peter spoke next and Siegfried was starting to regret his forthright approach, until his friend sighed heavily. "We can't all be as happy as you are Siegfried, though I understand that in your own little world, you can't see that."

He wasn't sure if the comment had been meant seriously or not, but Siegfried couldn't help but feel slightly taken aback. Peter's words hadn't been said with any sort of aggression or malice and yet he felt as though he had been wounded somehow by them. "I'm sorry," he said. "I had no idea you felt that way about me. I can only apologise if my conversation about Lily has…"

"No…" Peter sighed heavily again. "No, _I'm_ sorry. I…I shouldn't have said that I…I bear you no ill will, Siegfried, none at all. You are quite entitled to be rapturously happy with Lily after all that you've suffered, and I have _no_ wish to pour scorn on that. I suppose…I suppose I only wish for something akin to that for myself."

"You said before that you were too old to compromise."

"Yes, I did, didn't I? I suppose I am in a way, though an exception could be made for the right person."

"Shall we have a drink now then?" Siegfried asked, taking off his coat. "Mrs Hall isn't here but she'll have left the fire well stoked and you can unburden yourself of whatever it is that's grieving you.

Peter smiled, "I think it sounds like a wonderful idea."

"Splendid!" He led the way out of the surgery and into the sitting room, heading straight for the drinks cabinet and pouring them both large measures of the best whisky. "Now…" he settled himself into the armchair. "You were saying?"

"Oh…I don't know really. Just opining on how life could have been so different."

Siegfried said nothing, preferring to simply allow his friend to talk in a way that he clearly needed to. He sipped his liquor slowly as Peter stared into his glass and waited with bated breath for further revelations.

"You asked if there hadn't been anyone who may have 'turned my head'," Peter continued. "I must confess I was less than frank in my reply."

"Peter, it was none of my business, really…"

"No, I know you were asking from a good place, a kind place." Peter smiled. "I would imagine that when a man is as happy as you are, he wants everyone to feel the same. I can understand that. There was someone…someone I cared for very much at one time."

"And…?"

"I would have done anything for them, given up everything, gone anywhere. I was completely and utterly infatuated. Seems ridiculous for a man at my age, but perhaps you can understand some of how that must feel."

"Yes, of course," Siegfried said, "I've been lucky enough to feel that way twice in my life."

Peter looked at him. "I saw what losing Evelyn did to you. How wretched you felt, how inappropriately guilty…"

"I'm not sure my guilt was _entirely_ inappropriate."

"But you must recognise now, surely, that you played no part in her death?"

Siegfried paused, thinking on Evelyn and on the feelings that he had learned in recent times to lock away and not dwell on. When he allowed them to creep back into his subconscious, he couldn't help but still blame himself for leaving her, for going to war, for putting her in the position of staying with her parents. In his darker moments, it often felt as though he had held her down and poured the milk down her throat himself, as ridiculous as it sounded. But he knew that it wasn't fair to Lily to allow those thoughts to overshadow the future they were building together and, little by little, he was trying to let them go completely. "I suppose I shall always feel _some_ guilt."

Peter smiled, "And I suppose that simply speaks to your character. I won't pretend that my loss was anything akin to yours, but…" he sighed and sat back. "There were times when it felt almost like there had been a death."

"May I ask what happened between you and…this person?"

"It was my fault, entirely my fault. They were willing to give me all of themselves and I…well…I wasn't. I couldn't. I…" he paused. "I just couldn't."

Siegfried hadn't failed to notice that Peter hadn't used a pronoun when speaking about his lost love. He had said neither 'he' nor 'she' and he couldn't help but wonder if this omission suggested that Tristan was, as least partly, right in his depiction of Peter's character. "Was there a specific reason that you couldn't? When I first met Lily, I truly believed that I couldn't give her anything of myself because I was still bound to Evelyn. I felt as though I was betraying her in even contemplating loving another woman and yet…" he paused. "Could you not have found a way around your…difficulty?"

"Perhaps," Peter said. "If I had been willing to admit certain things to myself. But I wasn't and I still can't. It was unfair of me to expect anyone to put up with that level of…well…denial, I suppose. I don't blame them for walking away. But I know I've lost the one chance I had at happiness through my own stupidity." He leaned forwards suddenly and fixed Siegfried with a stern look. "Don't make the same mistake that I have Siegfried. Don't let anything come between you and Lily, not anything. I've seen how you look at her and how she looks at you. I recognise it from what I saw between you and Evelyn all those years ago. You've been given a second chance at true love and everlasting happiness. You have to grab it with both hands and hold onto it, promise me that you'll do that."

It had to be one of the longest most impassioned speeches about matters of the heart that he had ever heard his friend make and Siegfried found himself nodding in acquiescence. "On that score, you have no fear. I have no intention of losing Lily, none whatsoever."

"Good," Peter sat back and smiled again. "I shall be happy knowing that there are people out there who have more courage than I do and content myself with darling Bertie."

"Content…" Siegfried mused, recalling his own use of the word to Lily so many months earlier and how it paled into insignificance as an emotion when compared with what he felt for her now. "I suppose it's as good a word as any."

XXXX

"It's absolutely bloody freezing!" Tom declared, stamping his feet as he came into the kitchen and shivering. "I reckon the snow's coming again. You'll be lucky if it doesn't 'it in time for your big day."

"Oh, don't say that," Lily said as she swept the floor around the stove. "I don't want to be trying to make it to the church in snow three feet 'igh, thank you very much. I don't mind cold and I don't mind rain, but snow would just put the tin lid on it! Not to mention the fact that we'd probably never make it to Scotland." Saying the very words brought a warm sensation to her belly and she couldn't help but grin. In less than a month, she and Siegfried would be married and on their way to Edinburgh for their honeymoon. It had been, ironically, Tristan's suggestion and she had been surprised that Siegfried had agreed to it. As for herself, she had heard so much about the city that she was keen to see it, never having ventured across the border before.

"If we 'ave snow, you can bet Scotland will 'ave it ten times worse," Tom opined. "You could be spending your 'oneymoon at Skeldale House."

"I suppose that wouldn't be _all_ bad."

"No, I suppose not. Are you done then, lass? Only I said I'd meet Henry and George at the Drovers at eight and it's almost five to."

"Yes, I'm coming," she replied, propping the broom up in the corner and wiping her hands on a cloth. "We mustn't keep Henry and George waiting."

"I'll miss first round if I'm not there on time."

"So, you might 'ave to put your 'and in your pocket?" she laughed. "Heaven forbid!"

Their jocular humour continued out of the house and into the van and Lily found herself feeling far happier than she ever remembered being at that time of year in the past. Ordinarily, she would have remained at the farm whilst her father imbibed but, this year, she was meeting Siegfried, Peter, Tristan and Mrs Hall and was thoroughly looking forward to it. As her father drove down into the village and the twinkle of the Christmas tree in the square appeared in front of them, her throat choked with emotion and she had to swallow hard against the hard lump.

"Ah, there she is!" Siegfried exclaimed when she walked through the door before descending on her and kissing her. "I'm so very glad you're here. Mrs Hall is boring me _witless_ over wedding flowers and I do believe her conversation would be better directed towards you."

"Because you 'ave no interest in our wedding flowers?" she chided him gently.

"Of course I have _great_ interest in them and I look forward to seeing them in place, but as for this evening…" he looked at her meaningfully and she squeezed his arm.

"Oh, go on and get drunk then. I'll talk to Audrey about the flowers." She watched indulgently as he loped back over to where Peter was waiting and, shaking her head, joined Mrs Hall in the corner.

"'e got this in for you," Mrs Hall said, passing her a glass. "And 'e's been watching that door for the last twenty minutes."

"So 'e can get out of talking about flowers," Lily laughed.

"Did 'e say I was boring 'im?"

"Something like that."

"The cheeky beggar! You'll 'ave to take a firm 'and with 'im Lily, you mark my words."

"I think you could be an 'ard act to follow."

"Oh, give over," Mrs Hall blushed. "I call it like I see it, that's all. You'll soon know all about that once you move in." She paused. "'ow are you feeling about that at any rate?"

"Well…" Lily paused, unsure as to what her true emotions on the subject were. Excitement? Apprehension? Fear? The other woman having posed the question, she wondered if it was the right time to discuss a few pertinent matters. "I suppose I'm a bit nervous."

Mrs Hall nodded sympathetically. "That's very understandable, a young woman like you with no experience but, and I'm no expert on Mr Farnon in that regard, I think you'll find 'im very accommodating."

"Accommodating?"

"Exactly. Remember, it'll be new for 'im too, 'aving been so long without 'is wife."

"I suppose I just wonder where my place is," she said thoughtfully. "I don't want to be seen to be displacing _you_ , if you know what I mean." She paused as Mrs Hall looked at her in abject horror. "What? What is it?"

"Displacing _me_? I…well I…I've never…Mr Farnon and I…"

"Mr Farnon and you...what?"

"We 'ave _never_ in this last year ever done anything...like that."

Lily frowned. "Done anything like what?"

"Anything…carnal. And I'll take on anyone who dares to say we 'ave!"

For a moment, Lily wondered if she had walked into an entirely different conversation and it was only when she realised what Mrs Hall was alluding to that she felt her face flush crimson, for more reason than the simple mention of the act. "No…I wasn't talking about…that."

"What were you talking about then?"

"I meant, moving into Skeldale House as Siegfried's wife and not really knowing my place in the 'ierarchy. I mean, you're still employed as 'ousekeeper so…what am I meant to do?"

"Oh…" the other woman's face relaxed and she let out a long breath. "Yes, I can see what you mean. I thought you meant…never mind. Well…" she took a long drink of ale. "You'll be the mistress of the 'ouse."

"But what does that _mean_? I've only ever been responsible for cooking and cleaning and the like and if that remains your role, what's mine? Surely I'm not expected to just sit around the 'ouse all day doing nothing."

"If Mr Farnon 'as 'is way you'll be in that surgery or out on calls with 'im. There won't be time for any sitting around the 'ouse," Mrs Hall smiled. "Unless, of course, you're bearing 'im a child, that is."

The thought brought a smile to Lily's face and a warm feeling inside. Glancing over to where Siegfried and Peter had now taken up a conversation with her father and some of the other locals, she imagined herself full with his child, and how that would make her feel. Being a mother was something she had always imagined for herself, yet never thought would ever be possible. Now, it seemed so tantalisingly close.

"You'll just 'ave to watch, mind," Mrs Hall continued. "It can 'appen quickly, you know. You might find you've no time for veterinary studies once you're married after all."

Lily pulled her gaze back to her companion. "Really, 'ow quickly?"

"I were only married three months by the time Edward was conceived."

"And you 'adn’t…before, I mean?"

"Gracious, no. Sure fire way to disaster that is."

"Ah Mrs H, Lily, how lovely to see you both looking so well!"

The arrival of Tristan into their conversation allowed Lily a moment to draw into herself and reflect on what the other woman had just said. A woman could fall quickly with a child, perhaps in a matter of weeks or months from the first encounter. She remembered what Siegfried had said, about the danger of pregnancy and yet how easily they had both pushed the fear to one side, being so caught up in their physical need for one another. As raucous laughter reverberated around her, she suddenly found herself trying to remember the last time she had had her monthly…

"Everything all right over here?" Siegfried's voice jolted her back to reality as his arm slid around her waist and pulled her into him.

"Yes, fine," she replied. "Though you smell like a brewery already."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he winked, then kissed her. "Do I taste like one too?"

"I should say."

"Well, it _is_ the dawn of the new year and I can't help but be excited at what 1932 will bring. Marriage to you, a home together, our practice, a family…" he raised his eyebrows. "How many children would you like, darling?"

"I 'adn’t really given it much thought. 'ow many would you like?"

"Oh…three or four, at least."

"Three or four?" she laughed. "What do you think I am, a sow?"

"No, you're far lovelier than any sow I've ever seen. Far lovelier…" he kissed her again, his hands wandering down to her buttocks and gently squeezing.

"Don't you be getting any ideas," she pulled back. "There'll be no more of that, not until we're wed."

"You _do_ surprise me. Wasn't it you who came to my room on Christmas Eve and presented herself to me in a complete state of undress?"

"Keep your voice down," she glanced around. "Can you imagine what me dad would say if 'e knew about that?"

"Another month and what he has to say won't matter."

"Exactly, another month. We need to make sure we wait."

He frowned at her, "What's caused this sudden attack of conscience? I admit that I've been rather vocal in my thoughts about what might happen were we to continue…enjoying each other, but I thought you were feeling rather carefree on that score."

"I was, but…"

"But what?"

She paused, wondering if she should let him in to the fear that had washed over her moments earlier when Mrs Hall had been speaking. The fear that, perhaps it was already too late, perhaps she had already fallen. If she _did_ tell him, what would he say? What _could_ he say? What could either of them do? And how would she even know for certain? It wasn't as though she could ask Dr Bellamy's advice on the matter. "But I just think it would be sod's law if we got caught out before the wedding."

"My darling, it's a month," he laughed, "A _month_. If anything _were_ to happen, no-one would ever know."

"A doctor would."

"Yes, well any doctor would be bound by confidentiality now, wouldn't he?" he paused again on her silence and looked at her critically. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

"No," she shook her head, pushing the thoughts from her mind. He was at least partly right. Falling a month before their wedding would be nothing in comparison to falling several months before, and there was such a thing as babies being born before their full term, or so she had heard. "Everything's just coming together, that's all and I'd 'ate for anything to ruin it now."

"Having a child with you could never be considered ruination," he said quietly. "I never thought I'd have the chance to be a father. I thought all that had gone when I lost Evelyn. Then I met you and realised that I had been given a second chance. Let's not be fearful, my darling. There have already been too many things in our lives to have caused us pain."

She smiled, knowing that he was right. What could be more wonderful than knowing that in a few short weeks she would have a completely different life to the one that she had previously envisioned for herself. A life as his wife, as mistress of Skeldale House, a budding vet and, perhaps, a mother.

In the flurry of alcohol and conversation that followed, midnight was upon them before she felt she had had time to draw breath. As the countdown began and Siegfried pulled her into him, kissing her deeply on the final stroke of twelve, she knew that she was, perhaps, the luckiest girl in Darrowby.


	29. Chapter 29

**28 January 1932**

"This line is terrible!" Siegfried exclaimed, holding the telephone receiver away from his ear and wincing at the loud crackling emanating from within. "I'm afraid I didn't hear what you said last. Tristan? Tristan, are you still there?"

"Yes," his brother's voice sounded back to him, "Can you still hear me?"

"Only just. You sound like you're calling from the moon, not Edinburgh."

"I'm sorry, I was just saying that my train's been delayed. I'm not going to be leaving Edinburgh now until tomorrow afternoon, if at all. I have a terrible feeling that I might miss the wedding on Saturday."

"Oh, don't say that. How bad is it with you anyway?"

"The snow's about a foot deep," Tristan replied. "And it's still falling. The talk is that the train won't be able to get through unless it stops later. What about with you?"

"Oh, it's been coming down all day," Siegfried replied. "I imagine we'll have it as bad as you by morning." He paused. "It would be awful if you didn't make it, but I'd rather you were safe."

"Well, I'm not going to be driving the train myself, you know. I'll just be sitting in a carriage snoozing. All being well I should be with you at teatime tomorrow. Can you have someone collect me? I know _you'll_ probably still be too drunk to drive."

"I'm not sure exactly what you think I'm going to be getting up to this evening, but I'm fairly confident that I'll be fit to drive by tomorrow teatime. Anyway, worst case scenario, Mrs Hall drove during the war, so I assume she could handle a little snow."

"Well, I hope you enjoy yourself tonight. It's your last night of freedom, you know. Well, almost your last night. I'm surprised you didn't elect to have your stag party the night before the wedding. Isn't that the more traditional option?"

"Yes, usually," he mused, mindful of the conversation he had had with Lily where she had told him in no uncertain terms that she didn't want him hungover at the church. It had seemed safer all round, as a result, to have the gathering an evening in advance. "I'm sorry you're going to miss it, but we'll be able to have a small drink together tomorrow night." Static crackled again and he once again pulled the phone away from his ear. "Tristan? Tristan!" The line went dead and, shaking his head, he replaced the receiver back in its cradle.

"Problems?" Mrs Hall enquired, coming out of the kitchen.

"No, just the blasted phone line playing up. It was Tristan."

"I gathered that."

"His train's been delayed until tomorrow afternoon because of the weather. He said it's pretty bad up there."

"I can imagine. If it keeps up, you'll not be able to travel for your 'oneymoon."

"Yes…" he sighed. "I know Lily will be disappointed if that happens, but I suppose it can't be helped. I did wonder…"

"Yes?"

"Well, I'm obviously going to be at the Drovers this evening, lamenting the inevitable end of bachelorhood, and whilst I'm _hugely_ confident that I'll be fit to drive by tomorrow evening…"

"You want me on standby to pick Tristan up from the station."

"Would you mind?" he looked at her hopefully. "He said he should be here by teatime."

"No, of course I don't mind," she smiled indulgently. "I know what you men are like when you get started on the whisky. Just so long as you're sober for Saturday."

"Oh, you've nothing to fear on that score. Is Lily still coming over this evening?"

"Yes, I'm looking forward to seeing 'er and she's bringing 'er cousin, Emily, with 'er. She's a quiet girl by all accounts but Lily said she's looking forward to being bridesmaid. Not to mention they 'ad a good time together in Scarborough last summer."

"I'm glad she found someone she felt she wanted to act as bridesmaid. I was concerned for a time that she felt quite down about the matter." He paused, thinking back on the conversations he had had with his fiancée where she had lamented on her seeming lack of friends. "I hope, once we're married, she finds a little more confidence in herself to re-establish old acquaintances that have perhaps been allowed to fall away over the years."

"I'm sure she will," Mrs Hall said encouragingly. "Marriage to you is going to bring out the best in 'er, I 'ave no doubt. Now, Mr Brown's been on the phone again about that bull. 'e says there's still something wrong with its leg and 'e asked if you could go up. I said with the weather closing in that it might be difficult…"

"No, not at all," he replied cheerfully. "I don't think it should be too bad heading up that way, not if I go now. Are you needing me to pick up anything on my way back?"

"No, we're fine. You'd better 'urry if you want to make it back to get ready for your big night."

"Really, Mrs Hall, you make it sound like I'm going to some sort of exotic location when, in reality, it's merely the Drovers."

"Indeed it is," she replied. "But I want you to enjoy it. You deserve it."

"I'm not so sure I deserve any of what's about to happen," he admitted. "Do I deserve to be as happy as I am? Do I deserve to have Lily as my wife?"

"Yes, you do," she insisted. "And the two of you are going to be very 'appy together, I can feel it."

XXXX

The snow swirled thickly in front of the van as Tom picked his way carefully down the road from Windy Hill towards the village. Squashed next to him in the seat, Emily on her other side, Lily looked out at the darkness and felt an overwhelming sense of trepidation. The weather had been relentless of late and her fear of having a snow-bound wedding looked like it was starting to come true. It wasn't that she didn't consider it to be picturesque in a way, but when she had spoken to Siegfried on the telephone earlier, he had told her that Tristan's train was delayed, and he feared missing the ceremony altogether. Though his tone had been upbeat, she had recognised a note of sadness within and she hoped, beyond all hope, that her future brother-in-law would make it.

"'aven't seen weather like this for a while," her father commented. "No sign of it stopping neither."

"No," she sighed. "It would appear not."

"Don't you worry, lass, you'll still be getting married on Saturday, even if you _are_ a bit late in getting there."

"Bride's prerogative," Emily chipped in and Lily smiled at her. She was glad she had asked the younger woman to be her bridesmaid. She was the closest thing to real family, and they had gotten on so well in Scarborough that, when she had sat and thought about it, it had been a natural choice.

"Well, I don't want to be _too_ late. I wouldn't want Siegfried to think I'd stood 'im up at the altar."

"e'll 'ave no excuse at any rate," Tom replied. "'op, skip and a jump from Skeldale House to the church." He paused and glanced over at her. "You sure you're feeling all right, lass? You're still awful pale."

"I'm fine," she replied. Much to her relief, a few days earlier, her monthly had arrived, bringing with it the pain and fatigue that she usually experienced. The sight of it had made her feel immensely grateful that she and Siegfried had apparently been spared any 'surprises', though she had adhered to the position she had put forward on New Year's Eve and they hadn't been together since, despite it being painfully obvious that they both wanted to be. Every moment alone had been highly charged with desire, impatiently seeking to be unharnessed. But they had both admirably managed to restrain themselves and it was only a few days until they could legitimately be together. Now, she felt as though she was coming out the other side of the rigours of womanhood and could enjoy their day, even despite the weather. "Don't you be getting Siegfried paralytic tonight, Dad."

"Me? I reckon it could be the other way around."

"I know what you're like once you get started."

"Well, it's lucky you're not getting wed until Saturday then, isn't it? Most stag parties 'appen the night before the big day so as the groom can just carrying on drinking and not think about what 'e's doing."

"Dad!"

"I'm only joking, lass," he chuckled. "Don't lose your sense of 'umour now."

"I'll give you sense of 'umour…"

"Is that what you did?" Emily piped up. "Have your stag party the night before your wedding?"

"Well, it weren't that common back in my day. I 'ad a few drinks with me friends, me brother and your father, but it wasn't really anything to write 'ome about. Not like it is today. Though I do admit I were fairly merry when I said me vows. Nowt wrong with that."

"I mean it," Lily insisted. "Please Dad."

"Your intended can 'old 'is liquor quite well on 'is own without my 'elp. I saw that for meself at New Year. I doubt 'e'll need much encouraging on that score. Don't you worry lass, it'll be a rare good night. Not sure I can say the same for you ladies drinking tea, mind."

"That's exactly what I want, a quiet evening," Lily said. She was looking forward to the time to be spent with Emily and Mrs Hall, putting the world to rights in their own way. She felt a certain comfort from being within Skeldale House, soon to be her own home, and that feeling made her happier than she would ever have thought possible. "Besides, I'll 'ave the chance to put away some of me things." It had seemed prudent to gather up some of the things that she intended taking with her to her new home and having them in situ in advance of the big day.

"Aye, well…less said about that, the better," Tom remarked, pulling into the square.

"I'll be a married woman, Dad," she teased.

"And _that_ is something I don't need to think about. Right then, everybody out." As they disembarked and met around the front of the van, he took her hands in his. "'ave a nice evening, lass, both of you. You'll pick us up at closing time?"

"Yes," she sighed, wondering what of state she would find him in. "I said I would."

"Good girl." Kissing her cheek, he loped off towards the Drovers at speed, leaving Lily and Emily to make their way across the square to Skeldale House, where Mrs Hall greeted them warmly at the door.

"I'm glad you're 'ere," she said, beckoning them inside. "I've got everything ready."

"I 'ope you 'aven't gone to too much trouble," Lily said, taking off her coat and hanging it on the coat stand. "A cup of tea and a biscuit is fine for us."

"Don't be daft! It's all set out. Go and take a look."

Lily moved into the sitting room and stopped short at the sight of the feast on offer. Cakes, shortbread, biscuits, buns and everything else imaginable was laid out on the coffee table. "Audrey, you didn't need to go to so much bother."

"It's no bother," Mrs Hall squeezed her shoulder. "I'll just go and stick the kettle on and we can get started. I 'ope the pair of you are 'ungry at any rate, though I did promise Mr Farnon that I'd leave a little something for 'im for when 'e stumbles 'ome later tonight."

"It's very kind of you," Lily turned back to her. "Really it is."

"Well, we're going to be like family soon. Best start as we mean to go on."

"This is nice," Emily commented when they were alone again. "Look at all these books. 'as 'e read them all, your Mr Farnon?"

"I suppose 'e 'as."

"Do you reckon _you_ will, read them all I mean?"

"I don't know. I don't rightly know what life's going to be like once we're married and living 'ere together…" she trailed off, caught once more between the excitement and happiness of her new life, and the general uncertainty of it all.

"It's going to be wonderful," Mrs Hall replied from the door, holding the tea tray. "Absolutely wonderful."

XXXX

He wasn't sure how many pints he had had, but the world had started to take on a rosy tinge for Siegfried. The edges of his vision had become blurred, the raucous laughter of those around him reverberating through his brain. He had to admit it had been a successful evening. Everyone had been in high spirits, wishing him well on his journey to matrimony. It felt a little strange, knowing that it wasn't his first foray, and yet sometimes he found it hard to bring to mind how he had felt in the days before marrying Evelyn. It seemed so long ago and he had been so much younger, a boy in comparison to what he was now. Though he often didn't want to admit it, feeling it was in some way a betrayal, he felt that his love for Lily was stronger, deeper, almost more mature than that which he had had for Evelyn. They had both been through so much in the intervening years that his younger self could never have comprehended. For that he felt, in a strange sense, blessed.

As he stood near the bar, surveying the scene around him, he caught sight of Tom coming towards him and braced himself for whatever the other man might have said. He need not have feared however, as his future father-in-law slung his arm around his shoulders.

"It's a grand night, lad, a grand night."

"Yes, it appears to be."

"Everyone's 'ere to wish you well, or offer their condolences," Tom laughed. "Whichever way you want to take it."

"I'll take it any way," he replied. "I know I'm a lucky man."

"That you are. She's a good girl, my Lily. She'll be a good wife to you, mark my words." He paused. "I know I 'aven't always been in favour of, well, giving 'er away…but I reckon you'll make 'er very 'appy. At least, I 'ope you will."

"I fully intend to. There's nothing I want more than to see her happy."

"Good lad," Tom squeezed his shoulder. "It goes without saying, I suppose, that if you 'urt 'er, I'll kill you."

"Oh yes," Siegfried replied, conscious that the other man was, perhaps, only half joking. "Goes without saying."

"Right then! Another round I reckon. The night is still young and we 'ave much to discuss!"

"We do?"

"Aye lad," Tom steered him over to a table in the corner. "That we do."

XXXX

As far as Lily was concerned, the evening had been a complete success. Mrs Hall and Emily had been wonderful people to spend time with and the three women had laughed and joked and talked endlessly, so much so that she barely knew where the time had gone. Every subject had been covered from the weather to animals, holidays to Christmas, courtship to marriage. Emily had revealed, somewhat shyly, that she had been maintaining a correspondence with a lad she had met when they had been in Scarborough and Mrs Hall had talked, rather wickedly, about some of the more salacious sides of married life, though she had stopped short of discussing her husband in any great detail and Lily hadn't seen fit to ask.

"You know, it just goes to show," she commented, as they fell about laughing on something Emily had just said, "you don't need alcohol to 'ave a good time."

"Indeed you don't," Mrs Hall replied. "But it can 'elp! Would you like a glass of something?"

"No, thank you. I want to 'ave a clear 'ead to drive Dad back up the road. No doubt 'e'll be a complete mess by now. But you two should 'ave one, if you fancy it."

The telephone suddenly rang out in the hallway and Mrs Hall glanced at the clock, "Who could that be at this time?" Rising from her chair, she made her way out of the room and Lily could hear her murmuring to whoever was on the other end. Moments later, she returned, her expression grave. "That were George Sharp looking for Mr Farnon. 'e said something about his sheep being ill again, like the last time."

"Listeriosis?" Lily asked, the memory of the visit coming back to her.

"'e couldn't remember exactly what it were called but 'e said that you and Tristan were there too."

"Yes, I remember. Did you tell 'im Siegfried was in the Drovers?"

"I did, but 'e seemed very anxious…"

"Well, I'll nip over and see what sort of state 'e's in," Lily said, getting to her feet. "Maybe I could drive 'im up, if 'e's fit, like I did that day at Darrowby Show."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, the snow seems to 'ave stopped and it's only across the way." She moved into the hallway and lifted her coat. "I'll be back in a minute." Opening the front door, she was hit by a icy blast of air but saw, to somewhat of her relief, that the snow had indeed stopped. Gingerly she picked her way across the square to the Drovers, the sound of raucous laughter greeting her before she had even opened the door. It didn't take long to locate Siegfried, slumped as he was at a table with her father, clearly discussing something nonsensical that sent them repeatedly into fits of laughter. Though she was pleased to see them getting along, it was abundantly obvious that he would be completely incapable of dispensing any veterinary advice that evening.

"I'd better call George back and tell 'im to ring Paddy Trotter," Mrs Hall said when she returned to the house.

"But what if 'e does that and then never uses Siegfried again?" Lily asked. "'e'll 'ave lost a good customer."

"Well, that's the price you pay in this line of work, I suppose. There's always someone else around waiting to take from you given 'alf a chance."

Lily paused, her mind suddenly going into overdrive. She could remember the visit to the Sharp farm as though it were yesterday, assisting Siegfried as she had whilst he administered the injections to the afflicted sheep. If only she could remember the name of it…

"Tetracycline!" Emily and Mrs Hall looked at her. "That's the name of the medication Siegfried gave the sheep the last time, tetracycline. 'e said that, if they're not too far gone, then it would save them." She paused as they continued to look at her. "Well…I watched 'im do it. It didn't seem that difficult." She turned on her heel and hurried into the dispensary where the medicines were kept. "'e must 'ave some around 'ere somewhere…"

"You're not going to go up there yourself? Lily…" Mrs Hall said, coming up behind her as she ran her fingers along the bottles and vials that sat on the shelves, "are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Aha! Here it is! Look, tetracycline, four vials of it. Now, syringes…"

"Yes but… 'ave you ever given an injection before and…"

"No, but…"

"And 'ow would you know 'ow much to use?"

"Siegfried and I talked about it after we visited. We went through everything, what 'e 'ad done, 'ow 'e 'ad done it, 'ow much 'e used…" she paused. "If the sheep don't get the injection then they'll just get worse and die. Not to mention the fact they could spread it to the rest of the flock. These one's could 'ave got it from the ones who 'ad it before." Mrs Hall's expression remained one of worry and she felt a slight tinge of annoyance. "Don't you think I could do it?"

"Of course I think you can do it, but…what if something goes wrong? You're not qualified, and Mr Farnon would be liable…"

"Nothing is going to go wrong," she replied stubbornly. "It's just a quick injection. I promise you, if I get there and they're worse or I think it's something I can't 'andle, I'll call Paddy Trotter myself. Please Audrey, I know I can do this and just think 'ow proud Siegfried would be. 'e's the one who keeps going on about me becoming a vet and us being in practice together."

"You don't need my permission," Mrs Hall said, "I just think…" she trailed off. "Well, if anything bad comes of this, I voiced my concern at the time, don't forget that."

"I won't and, like I said, nothing's going to go wrong." Glancing around, she caught sight of Siegfried's bag in the corner and, sweeping up the vials and syringes, deposited them inside. "If I go now, I'll be back by closing time. Ring George Sharp back and tell 'im I'm on my way, will you? Thank you." Without waiting for a response, she hurried for the door again. "I'll see you soon."

There was a layer of frost on the windscreen of the van and as she started the engine and waited for it to clear, she felt a certain frisson of excitement course through her. What would be a better wedding gift to her new husband than showing him that all the trust and confidence he had in her wasn't misplaced, that she was in fact capable of doing the things he believed she could. More than that, she would have kept a valuable customer happy and prevented him from going elsewhere. If she and Siegfried were to be any kind of team, personally and professionally, wasn't that what it was all about?

"It's a win-win situation," she muttered to herself as she pulled away from the kerb. "Bloody win-win."


	30. Chapter 30

Despite the snow having stopped falling, its relentless earlier tirade had left the roads difficult to navigate. As she made her way slowly from the village onto the road that would take her up to the Sharp farm, Lily felt every nerve in her body jangle. She wasn't sure if it was because of the conditions, or the thought of actually performing some sort of procedure on an animal on her own, but she felt herself grip the steering wheel tightly, her heart hammering in her chest. There were no other vehicles on the road, no-one else clearly as deluded as she was that it was a good idea to be out in the weather.

"It's not delusional," she said to herself. "I'm keen and eager and I want to 'elp. That's 'ow it should be, surely." Though there was no-one to respond to her, no-one to answer her questions or offer advice, she found herself talking aloud for the remainder of the journey, going over what she was going to say to George, what she was going to do and how she was going to, latterly, present it to Siegfried. Mrs Hall's words about something going wrong and Siegfried being held liable hadn't been lost on her, but George was a kind man, and she knew he would be pleased that she had made the effort to come out.

Twenty minutes or so later, she turned into the farmyard and shut off the engine, George suddenly appearing before her, a lamp in his hand. "It's a bugger of a night," he greeted her as she retrieved the bag and climbed down from the driver's seat. "I wouldn't be surprised if we didn't get more snow before morning."

"I agree," she replied, "let's 'ave a look at these sheep then."

"I were surprised when Mrs Hall said you would be coming up 'ere. Figured I'd need to call Paddy Trotter."

"No need for that, not when I'm available," she replied with as much confidence as she could muster under the circumstances. "I 'ope that's all right with you."

"If Mr Farnon trusts you to do this on your own, then I trust you."

"Yes…" she paused, thinking it best not to tell him that Siegfried had no actual knowledge of what she was doing. "Is it the same as before then?"

"Seems to be," he replied, leading her into the shed. "I've separated them out again, put the sick ones back 'ere. Just two of them this time."

"Well, that's something at least." She paused at the side of the pen and looked inside. Both sheep were wandering around somewhat aimlessly, salivating excessively, but fortunately neither of them were on the ground or seemed too far gone for her to help. "Are these the first ones you've noticed since the last time?"

"Aye, and I cleared the field like Mr Farnon said I should, so I don't know where this 'as come from."

"The others seem all right?"

"For the moment."

"Right then," she set the bag down on the ground and opened it, rooting around for the vials and syringes, all the time attempting to project an air of confidence. In her head, she imagined Siegfried with her, guiding her, telling her what to do for each step in the process. It seemed straightforward enough and yet her hands shook as she tried to insert the delicate syringe into the neck of the appropriate vial.

"You're just going to give them an injection again then? Like Mr Farnon did the last time?"

"Yes, tetracycline." Finally drawing up the first syringe, she stepped over the side of the pen and motioned for him to join her. "Could you 'old 'er for me, please? That's it." As George held the sheep still, she took a deep breath, conjuring up the image of how Siegfried had done it the last time, and made to insert the needle, hesitating slightly as she felt the tough skin of the animal fight against it.

"Reckon that looks right," George said, and she looked up gratefully to see him nodding encouragingly at her. Without further hesitation, she pushed the needle in and depressed the plunger, the animal bucking slightly at the action.

"One down…" she muttered as he let the first one loose and grabbed hold of the second. "One to go." The action repeated, she straightened and stood back to watch as they both moved to the corner of the pen. "That should do the trick, 'opefully. If there's any other problem, just phone back and I'll tell Siegfried what's 'appened so 'e knows to check up in a few days time. If this weather 'olds, we'll not be making it to Scotland for our 'oneymoon at any rate."

"Of course, you're getting married on Saturday," George smiled. "I 'ope it turns out a decent day for you."

She smiled, packing the bag up again and following him back into the yard. "Well at least it's stopped snowing," she cast her eyes heavenwards. "Something to be said for that."

"That there is." He paused and eyed her critically. "You said you'd tell Mr Farnon what 'ad 'appened. Does that mean 'e doesn't know you were coming up 'ere?" She paused, wondering whether to embellish the truth and say that Siegfried had encouraged her, but before she could speak, George smiled and shook his head. "Done a grand job for your first time."

"Thank you," she let out a small laugh of relief. "I'm only glad you didn't phone to say you 'ad a beast calving or something. I might 'ave 'ad a bit more 'esitation in coming out to that!"

"You keep at this and you'll be calving beasts before you know it." He patted her on the shoulder. "Safe back to the village now, you 'ear? I'll give the surgery a ring and let Mrs Hall know you're on your way back."

"That's kind, thank you."

"And enjoy your big day. 'appiest day of your life."

"I will," she replied, climbing back up in the van and starting the engine. "Goodnight." He touched his cap to her as she put the van into gear and turned in the yard to head back down the road to Darrowby. As she did so, she felt a wide grin spread uncontrollably across her face. She had done it. She had actually done it. She had ministered to an animal all by herself and though it perhaps hadn't been the most complicated or taxing of treatment, the very fact that she had done it made her feel so happy and alive. Everything in her life was changing, everything, and it all seemed to be for the better. Perhaps Siegfried's notion of her becoming a vet, a partner with him, hadn't been so fanciful after all. Perhaps she _could_ learn, maybe even take exams like Tristan, and maybe one day they _could_ all work together at Skeldale House. Added to that, being Siegfried's wife and hopefully bearing him children…there was so much wonderfulness all around that she found herself laughing joyously as she turned to head down Hodden Hill. "Wait until I tell Mrs Hall and Emily," she said to herself, "not exactly what a bride expects to be doing a few nights before 'er wedding."

The road was more slippery than she had thought it would be, the fallen snow having started to freeze in places with the continued drop in temperature. As she gingerly progressed down the hill, she felt a sudden wave of anxiety sweep over her at the darkness ahead and how unstable the van felt under her control. Though she remained in a low gear and well below any speed that could be considered excessive, she felt the vehicle slide underneath her, its tyres failing to adequately grip the surface. As she descended, she felt its speed inevitably start to pick up, and though she knew it was entirely the wrong thing to do, found herself pressing instinctively down on the brake pedal. The back wheels started to skid, and she yanked the steering wheel in the same direction, trying to remember everything her father had ever told her about driving, whilst simultaneously fighting to control the panic that was rising within her.

The van was beginning to gain more speed and she knew that, up ahead, was the sharp turn that bordered the edge of Dick Rudd's land which then dropped down into the field below. If she wasn't careful and judged her manoeuvres correctly, it was a certainty that she would end up ploughing through the fence.

"Steady, steady…" she whispered, clutching the wheel as though it were her lifeline and keeping her eyes fixated on the road ahead. A few moments longer and she would be around the bend and back onto the straight. Then, in theory, it would be an easy ride back to the village. Suddenly, from over the brow, the lights of another vehicle dazzled her, and she took her foot off the brake, causing the van to start hurtling faster down the hill. Twisting the wheel wildly, she felt the back end swing out, causing the entire vehicle to suddenly spin into the path of that which was oncoming. She turned the wheel in the opposite direction, desperate to avoid a collision, only for the van to suddenly strike the fence at speed, crashing through it and jolting violently down into the field.

Before she had time to draw breath to scream, one of the wheels caught a patch of earth, and the van flipped, rolling over and over itself as it continued its terrible journey, her entire body smashing against the interior, her world hurtling in a crazed circle, before finally coming to rest on its side.

For a moment, everything was still.

For a moment, she thought she might be unhurt.

For a moment, she thought she might be able to get out.

For a moment.

XXXX

Siegfried could barely see, barely think, his mind so addled with drink. He knew that Tom was beside him, swaying dangerously as they made their way through the square, sliding at various points on the frozen ground, actions that made him laugh somewhat inappropriately. Were he to fall and break a leg, how would that affect the wedding? Would he be required to be wheeled down the aisle to meet his bride? It was a humorous thought, though one he knew Lily would most likely not share.

It had been a wonderful evening, more so than he would have thought possible, and in his continued interactions with his future father-in-law, he felt a growing kinship with them. They shared the pain of a terrible loss, that of each of their wives, but they also shared something else; their love for Lily and desire to see her happy. What reservations the other man might have had before appeared to have vapourised and all he now saw before him was the happiness of a conjoined family.

As they reached the door of Skeldale House, he saw that the lights were still on and he only hoped that Mrs Hall had stayed true to her word and left a few tasty snacks aside from the supper tray. His stomach was growling with hunger and his mouth felt bone dry, despite the earlier libations. As he pushed the door open, he felt grateful for the heat emanating from within, warming him against the icy chill of a January night, but it made his head swim and he reached out to steady himself against the wall, only to fall against the coat stand.

"You plonker" he heard Tom laugh behind him, remembering suddenly that the other man had followed him across from the pub in order for Lily to drive him home, and momentary concern rushed through him at what she might say at the state of their inebriation.

His blurred vision made out the form of Mrs Hall appearing, he assumed, from the direction of the sitting room. "Sorry…" he slurred. "I'm very sorry…" His voice sounded foreign to his own ears, as though he were a puppet, wobbling on strings, whilst someone else controlled his thoughts and speech. Whatever she might have said in response, however, was lost in the sudden rushing inside his head. He felt himself lurch forwards, seeking something else to hold onto, and instead falling unceremoniously to the floor. Hands were suddenly upon him, lifting him to his feet and there was a swirl of conversation around him, the content of which he was incapable of deciphering. He felt his feet move and was sure that he was in the sitting room, his hand stretching out to feel the comfort of the couch, before falling face down upon it.

He had no idea if Lily was there and, if so, if she was put out by his demeanour, but the voices around him suddenly seemed to grow more urgent, high pitched, with someone shaking him and calling his name, and the thought that something might be wrong briefly flitted through his mind before he gave in to the vagaries of an overindulgence of liquor and promptly passed out.

**29 January 1932**

He had no concept of what time it was and, initially, no concept of _where_ he was. His face was pressed into some sort of soft material and it was only when he slowly moved his head to the side and ventured to open one eye that he realised that he was home, on the couch in the sitting room. The room was bathed in a pale light that momentarily hurt his eyes and he screwed them tightly shut as a dull banging sensation started in his head.

"Oh Lord…" he moaned to himself, enjoying the silent darkness for a few moments longer before once more seeking vision. Slowly, he tried to sit up, realising fairly quickly that he was still dressed in his clothes from the previous evening, though his coat, jacket and shoes had been removed, and there was a blanket lying in a heap on the floor where it had obviously found itself during the course of the night. "What time is it?" he squinted at the clock on the wall, failing miserably in accurately reading it. "Mrs Hall?"

Though his throat was as dry as paper and his voice incapable of carrying any great distance, she suddenly appeared in the doorway of the sitting room, her expression one of concern.

"Mrs Hall…" he muttered weakly, pulling himself into a seated position and holding his head between his hands. "Dear God…how much did I consume last night? No, don't answer that, I'm not sure I really want to know. I don't mind telling you I feel _awful…_ " He waited for her rebuke, her tutting and head-shaking and pearls of wisdom over the dangers of allowing oneself to lose complete control, but there was nothing. No sound at all. He opened his eyes again, squinting in the dim light to make sure she was still there, only to find her hovering beside the armchair, twisting her hands together. "You're not normally silent on such a subject. Did I disgrace myself terribly?"

"Mr Farnon…"

"Did I make a _complete_ fool of myself? I'm fairly certain that I did…oh dear…" he hunched forwards and put his head between his legs. "I think I may need some strong coffee before facing the day. I was right to do this last night rather than tonight. Can you imagine Lily's face if this was how I were to present myself on our wedding day?" Again, she said nothing, and he looked up to meet her gaze, confused at her continued lack of opinion. "Mrs Hall, you're unnerving me with your absence of annoyance at my obvious condition."

"You were very drunk when you came in last night," she said haltingly. "I tried to keep you roused…to tell you…but you collapsed 'ere and you've been laying 'ere ever since…"

"Tried to tell me what?" he winced as pain shot through his head. "Do we have any aspirin?"

"It's…it's Lily."

"What about her? Is she furious with me? I suppose I wouldn't blame her if she was. God…" Spying a glass of water on the coffee table in front of him, he lifted and drained it in one, the cool liquid a balm for his dry throat.

"Last night…there was a call…George Sharp 'ad a few sheep that weren't right. It were something to do with whatever it was that was wrong with them the last time you were up there…"

"Listeriosis? Yes, I remember…"

"Lily came to find you in the Drovers but, well, you were in no fit state to do anything so…so she decided to go up there 'erself."

He looked up sharply and then bitterly regretted, screwing his eyes shut once more. "She went up there herself?"

"Yes, she said that the sheep needed injecting, that she knew what to do, what to give them, that she'd been there the last time and that you'd talked about it afterwards. She were confident that she could do it."

"Well well…" a feeling of immense pride suddenly rushed through him. Everything he had tried to tell her, everything he had tried to show her…it was all starting to come together. She was beginning to believe in herself, after all of the self-doubt and derision. His fiancée. Very soon to be his wife. "Good for her, I'm glad."

"Mr Farnon…"

"She'll be feeling pretty proud of herself this morning, I shouldn't wonder. Assuming everything went all right, that is." He peered at her again and paused on her look. "Everything _did_ go all right, didn't it? She didn't inject the beasts with the wrong medication or anything like that, did she?" He meant the comment to be light-hearted but, to his horror, tears suddenly began to form in her eyes. "Mrs Hall?"

"George…phoned to say that she were on 'er way back, that everything had gone fine but…" her voice shook, "but she never made it."

"Never made it? What are you talking about?" The lingering effects of his hangover monetarily forgotten, Siegfried felt a cold sensation suddenly course through him. In the year since he had been in Darrowby, he had never so much as seen Mrs Hall display anything close to upset or distress. His heart started to thud in his chest as tears escaped from her eyes and began trickling unchecked down her cheek. Slowly, he rose to his feet. "What is it? Mrs Hall, what's happened?"

"We waited, Emily and me, we waited thinking that it were just the weather delaying 'er but…but then Dick Rudd phoned and…'e said that there 'ad been an accident. The van 'ad…skidded somehow coming down Hodden Hill and…and crashed down into 'is field…"

"But…" he tried to take in what she was saying, the absurdity of it mingled with the effects of the alcohol slowing his thinking. "But Lily's a good driver. She…"

"Dick said 'e 'eard it, said it were like crashes of thunder and…and 'e ran out to 'elp. 'e got 'er out and…and Linda called for Dr Bellamy and 'e called for an ambulance…"

"An ambulance??"

"They took 'er to York and Mr Bailey…Dick came down to drive 'im over to the 'ospital and I tried to wake you…"

"No…no that can't be right…it can't be right…" She stifled a sob and he stepped forward quickly. "Have you heard from them? Is Lily all right?" On her silence, he grasped her roughly by the shoulders, causing her to momentarily cry out. Ordinarily, he would never have put hands on a woman, least of all her and, if he had, would have apologised immediately, stepped back and asked for forgiveness but now…Lily… "Mrs Hall, tell me! Tell me what you know, damnit!"

"I don't know anything!" she exclaimed, her face crumpling. "I 'aven't 'eard a word from the 'ospital or Mr Bailey since they left and…" He pushed past her, the rest of her words irrelevant. "Where are you going?"

"My keys," he said, rushing into the hallway and scanning the surrounding area. "Where are my keys? Mrs Hall, where are my damn keys?!" Before she could reply, he caught sight of them hanging, as they always did, on the hook and quickly grabbed them.

"You can't drive…"

"I have to get to the hospital."

"But you're not fit! You look terrible and you've 'ad so much to drink!"

"It doesn't matter!" he rounded on her and then suddenly felt light-headed, pain throbbing through his temples. "I have to…I have to get to her. I have to…"

"I'll drive you," she said decisively, wiping her hands roughly over her face. "We'll go together."

"All right but please, hurry!" he urged her as she ran to retrieve her handbag and coat. "I failed the last time and I can't fail this time!"

"The last time?" she queried, pausing at the front door.

"Evelyn. I failed Evelyn," he replied. "I can't fail Lily too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 999 emergency system didn’t come into usage in the UK until 1937 although ambulances could be called via private call. I’m taking the view that that is what Dr Bellamy would have done on being advised about the accident.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be the last chapter I can post this year given the holidays and then the shut down of childcare provision. I will try and update again as soon as I can. Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed so far. Merry Christmas when it comes!

If he had considered giving thought to it, Siegfried would have complimented Mrs Hall on her driving skills. Though the snow lay all around and the roads were icy, she manoeuvred the car well, at no time appeared nervous or anxious of the task that lay before her and, instead, exuded a calmness that he knew neither of them really felt. He watched the landscape rush by as they proceeded towards York and he felt a sickness in his stomach that he knew bore no relation to his earlier activities.

_Lily…my darling Lily…_

It could not be happening. Not again.

If he closed his eyes, he could still see the look on his commanding officer's face having summoned him that terrible morning. It had been a look of pity mingled with that of a determination of duty. He remembered saluting and then being told to stand at ease while the news from home had been delivered.

_"We've received word that your wife is gravely ill, Farnon. I'm attempting to make arrangements for you to be transported home assuming, of course, that is what you wish to do."_

It had taken time for the true meaning of what the other man had been saying to penetrate his brain, for him to realise that this was not merely a cold or some other minor ailment that had befallen Evelyn, but rather a very serious medical condition that could, in theory, kill her.

"Which _did_ kill her," he murmured to himself.

When he thought back on it now, it was obvious that the Brigadier had been expecting him to say that he would remain in Belgium, that the cause was more important than anything that might have been happening back home. Fortunately, he had had the wherewithal to insist that he return home to be with Evelyn, for all the good it had done, her already being dead by the time he had received word of her affliction.

"Not much longer now," Mrs Hall broke into his thoughts and he glanced over at her again, at her determined gaze and the confident way she gripped the steering wheel. All trace of distress had left her face, so focused did she appear to be on the task at hand, namely delivering him to the hospital. He was grateful that she had elected to maintain a supportive silence throughout the journey, unsure as he was that he could properly formulate words to describe how he was feeling. The immense pride he had felt when she had told him that Lily had felt confident enough in her own abilities to go to George Sharp's aid had quickly been replaced by foreboding questions that he didn't have the courage to answer. Such as, _why would she go out there on her own, why was she on that road_ and _why didn't I stop her?_

Despite her assertion that they were almost at journey's end, it took another forty-five minutes to reach the outskirts of York, longer still to find their way to the county hospital, situated as it was in Monkgate. The town itself had not escaped the brutal onslaught of the weather and as they picked their way carefully towards its gates, his desperation to find out what had happened meant he had half a notion to simply leap out of the car whilst it was moving.

"I'll wait 'ere," Mrs Hall said when she drew to a stop. "Best you go in and find Mr Bailey."

Siegfried paused, momentarily desperate for her to accompany him, for there to be someone there when he faced what he knew would inevitably come. Tom would be angry, worried, distraught, as he had every right to be, and he knew that he would be the likely target of his upset. But rather than insist, he simply nodded dumbly, got out of the car and made his way towards the impressive entrance. York County Hospital was well known in the area. It was where very sick or badly injured people were taken, somewhere more equipped to help than any local cottage hospital might be. The sickness in his stomach only increased as he stepped through the doors and found himself in a large, eerily quiet vestibule, a desk at the far end staffed by two nurses in starched hats.

"Excuse me, I wonder if you can help me. I'm looking for…"

"Farnon!"

The sound of his surname, shouted in an angry and bitter tone, only served to compound his anxiety and, turning slowly, he caught sight of Tom Bailey at the far end of a corridor. The last recollection he had of the other man was in the Drovers, light-hearted, rosy with drink, good-tempered…the Tom Bailey he bore witness to now, seemed none of those things. "How is she?" he asked, hurrying towards him, pushing the thought of whatever recriminations might follow from his mind. "Have you seen her? What's her condition?"

Tom shook his head, his expression one of profound devastation. "She's not good," he said after a long moment. "I 'aven't been able to see 'er. The doctor said 'e would come and speak to me but I 'aven't seen 'ide nor 'air of 'im for 'ours." He ran a hand over his face, the effects of drink and lack of sleep evident in every crag. "You've sobered up then."

Siegfried looked away, embarrassed at the very mention of it, embarrassed that he had acted like some…yob…whilst Lily had been... "Yes, I have. I'm sorry that I wasn't in a fit state to accompany you here. Mrs Hall said that she tried to waken me…"

"Aye well…the drink affects some men more than it does others. You're 'ere now, that's the main thing."

He found himself surprised by the other man's tone, having expected harsher words. Rather than encourage them, however, he elected to try and make some sort of sense as to what had happened. "Was Dick able to tell you any more about what happened?"

"Only that the van must 'ave skidded coming down the 'ill and she wasn't able to stop it. I told 'er. I told 'er thousands of times that when you drive in those conditions you don't 'ammer on the brakes! She _knew_ that!"

"But we don't know that it was her fault. We don't know…"

"'er fault?" Tom looked up at him quickly. "None of this is _'er_ fault."

"No, of course not. I only meant…"

"Mr Bailey?"

Siegfried broke off as a man approached them, dressed smartly in a suit, an air of authority exuding from him, and he immediately assumed that it must be the doctor. "How is she?" he asked before Tom could respond.

The man looked him up and down. "You are?"

"Siegfried Farnon, Lily's…Miss Bailey's…fiancé."

"I see. I'm Dr Wright. I'm sorry I haven't been able to speak to you before now. I only wish my news for you could be better."

"'ow do you mean?" Tom asked.

"Lily sustained some very serious injuries in the accident. A broken wrist and fractured skull being the least of them. I'm afraid she has very extensive internal injuries…"

"What sort of internal injuries?" Siegfried interrupted. "I'm…I'm a veterinary surgeon," he explained on the doctor's look, well aware of how pathetic it must have sounded to him when an animal, any animal, could be said to be so different from a human being.

"She has swelling in her abdomen which is suggestive of internal bleeding, possibly from her spleen. In addition, we believe that she may have lacerated her liver, and she has a pneumothorax, that's a collapsed lung. All in all, she's a bit of a mess."

"So, what treatment does she require? What's your prognosis?"

Dr Wright paused and surveyed him again for a moment before answering. "I'm afraid that death is my prognosis."

Siegfried heard Tom inhale sharply before a cry of distress burst from his throat. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the other man stagger over to the far wall, putting out his hands to support himself before sinking slowly down into a heap.

"No, but…but that can't be right," he said. "Surely you must be able to do _something_?"

"I'm sorry, but as I said, she's sustained some very serious injuries. To be completely frank with you, I'm very surprised she survived the accident itself, much less the transportation here and the hours that have followed. I wish that I could predict a better outcome but, as it is, I don't expect Lily to live much beyond this evening."

"No," he said again. "No, that can't be right. You can't…she can't…she can't die. This is…it's 1932…you can do so much now, surely. It's just…it's just not possible."

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid it is." Dr Wright pulled a pocket watch from his waistcoat pocket and eyed it critically. "I'm afraid that I have to go. I'm very late for an important meeting. I am _very_ sorry about Lily, truly I am. You're both welcome to sit with her as long as you need, so long as you don't cause any disruption to the other patients." Without further recourse, he turned on his heel and walked away.

Beside him, Tom continued to keen loudly and, looking over at him, Siegfried saw a man so very different from that which he had seen before. A man in grief over the anticipated loss of his only child, and not by a loss through marriage, but a loss through death. He suddenly wondered how Evelyn's father had reacted to the news. Had he slumped to the floor and wept, or had he stayed stoically silent for her mother? They had never discussed those moments, those before Evelyn had died or the ones immediately after. By the time he had arrived back in England she was already buried, the initial shock having worn off for everyone else, by which point it had seemed too late for his own grief. He hadn't been there. He hadn't been with Evelyn in those last moments and for all the years that had followed he had wished he had been, had wished passionately that he hadn't been so far away, that he could have been at her side, held her hand, kissed her, told her everything that he had felt for her. But war and distance had robbed him of that and now…now it was happening all over again, only this time he _was_ here. He could do all those things, be for Lily what he could never be for Evelyn and yet…the thought…the thought of sitting by her side and watching her die knowing that, in some way, he was responsible for it…

"I can't. I…I can't…" Turning on his heel, he started to walk back along the corridor towards the main entrance, distance between himself and Lily growing with every step, and he was almost at the door before he heard Tom's voice behind him again.

"Siegfried! _Siegfried!"_

He kept walking, blocking it out, blocking it all out. Back out into the pale afternoon light, back to where he could see the car, Mrs Hall standing at the driver's door, her breath fogging in the freezing air. Clearly sensing his approach, she turned and met his gaze, her face alight with expectation and hope.

"Can you take me home, please Mrs Hall."

It clearly hadn't been the reaction she was expecting, her eyebrows knitting together in a frown of confusion. "But 'ow is she? What did the doctor say?"

He hesitated, trying to think of a way to formulate his reply that would convey the news but nothing else. "He said…he said that she will most likely die at some point soon." Opening the car door without further recourse to her, he slid back into the passenger seat, her following suit, but his wish for her to simply do what he asked and start driving failed to come true. When he looked over at her, he saw her horror-struck expression and the tears forming in her eyes again. "May we go, please."

"Mr…Mr Farnon…"

"Now please! Or shall I simply do it myself?" He knew his rage was misplaced, that there was no-one who deserved the force of it less than she did, yet there was no-one else around to bear the brunt of it, no-one, and if he didn't have rage, all he had was distress and that wasn't permissible at the moment. He wasn't permitted to have that, to feel that, when all along he knew he was to blame.

"You…you 'ave to go back in there."

"No."

"You 'ave to be with 'er."

"I said, no."

"If…if she's dying…"

" _If_ she's dying?" he rounded on her. "She _is_ dying, didn't you hear a bloody word I said? She _is_ dying and she will likely die tonight and whether I am here or not will make not a blind bit of difference! So, will you please just drive us home!"

Mrs Hall had never once crossed him, other than in a gentle, almost familial way. They had never seriously quarrelled, one always seeming to give in to the other whether they believed themselves right or not and so to assume that he expected her to do as he asked went without saying. Instead, however, she pushed open the door and made to get back out. "No."

"I beg your pardon?!" he exclaimed, jumping out and facing her across the bonnet, stunned that she would defy him. "I asked you to drive us both back to Darrowby!"

"And I said no," she replied firmly. "If that lass is dying, then I want to see 'er. No doubt 'er father could use some support given as, I'm sure, you've just left 'im in there on 'is own!" Her gaze softened slightly, as though she could read how he was feeling and understood. "Mr Farnon…Siegfried…please, come with me."

He wanted to. Only God knew how much he wanted to…but he couldn't. He couldn't see her like that, lying in a bed, smashed beyond recognition, already well on her way to eternal life. For all he had blamed himself over the circumstances that had led to Evelyn's death this…this was infinitely worse and he was acutely more to blame. "I can't," he said again. "I can't see…what I've done."

Mrs Hall frowned again and came around the car to stand in front of him, "What _you've_ done? This isn't your fault. It were an accident. No-one could 'ave know, no-one could 'ave prevented it…"

"Will you or will you not drive me home?!" he demanded, unwilling to hear her sentiments or her opinion on the matter.

"Not until I've seen Lily."

"Fine, I'll do it myself. Tristan will need collected at any rate." Moving around to the driver's side, he quickly climbed in and turned the key, the engine roaring to life underneath him. He skidded away without so much as looking back to see her reaction and drove, faster than he had intended to, back towards Darrowby. The world around him was a blur, his only thought being to put distance between himself and Lily.

By the time he reached the outskirts, Tristan's train was due to arrive and he detoured towards the station to collect him, arriving mere moments in advance of the steam train. He sat in the car, staring ahead, having no urge to even see if his brother was aboard, trusting that, if he was, he would find the car for himself. Moments later, he felt someone strike the top of the car in greeting, then open the boot and deposit something heavy inside.

"Well, aren't you glad I made it?" Tristan said, climbing into the car, bringing with him a blast of icy air. "You won't have to look for another best man now that I'm here. It's a pity about the weather but I suppose it can't be helped. Lends a certain picturesque quality to the day. I don't mind telling you that the train was bloody freezing but, at least we got here. I reckon it might snow again tonight though. How are you anyway? Nervous about becoming a married man again tomorrow?"

It would have been easier to let his brother prattle on, to allow him to continue to converse in the way that only people with nothing of any real consequence to consider could, and yet he knew that, in the end, it wasn't fair to either of them, especially when he couldn't even answer Tristan's innocent questions. "There isn't going to be a wedding."

"Oh, very droll. I hope you haven't practiced that humour on Lily. I doubt she'd appreciate it with less than twenty-four hours to go."

"It's not a joke, Tristan. There isn't going to be a wedding." He felt, rather than saw, Tristan's expression at the sharpness of his tone. "There…there was an accident last night. Lily…Lily was at George Sharp's farm ministering to some sheep with listeriosis and she crashed the van on her way back to Darrowby."

"Oh, good Lord! Is she all right? How badly was she hurt?"

"Very badly. The doctor said that she won't survive the day."

There was a brief, highly charged silence before Tristan spoke next. "What?"

"So, you see, there won't be a wedding tomorrow, or any day, because she won't be here."

"Siegfried…"

"Mrs Hall and Mr Bailey are with her at the hospital in York."

"But…why aren't _you_ with her? Siegfried, if it was about collecting me at the station, good God, someone else could have done it. Or I could have walked for heaven's sake! You should be with her!"

"Should I? Why?"

"Why? Because she's your fiancée! Because you were due to marry her tomorrow! Because you love her…"

"I can't."

"Can't what?"

"I can't be there."

"Why not?"

"I don't…I don't expect you to understand."

"Well that's good, because I don't." Tristan paused. "Turn the car around."

"What?"

"Turn it around! Drive back to York!"

"No."

"Siegfried…"

"I said no! That's an end to it!" At that moment, he felt tears spring into his eyes, and he willed them away. He didn't want his little brother to see his distress, didn't want his pity, well aware that he was undeserving of it. All he wanted to do was get back to Skeldale House, back to somewhere where he felt safe, where he could cocoon himself away from the reality of what was about to happen. To his relief, Tristan kept silent for the remainder of the journey, though any joviality the younger man had possessed had evaporated. The atmosphere in the car drew colder by the minute and when they eventually stepped inside the house, Tristan slammed the door behind him.

"You're a coward."

"Am I."

"Yes, you are and you _know_ you are! Siegfried, all these years you've lamented the fact that you couldn't be there for Evelyn in her final moments and now…"

"I don't want to hear this."

"Now you have the chance to be there for Lily."

"And do you really think I want that chance?" he rounded on his brother. "Do you _really_ think I want to sit there and…and hold her hand and watch her die in front of me? Do you _really_ think that's what I want?"

"No, of course not but…"

"You think it's fair, do you? You think it's fair that I lost one wife and now I'm about to lose another?!" His eyes smarted again, and he stalked into the sitting room, over to the drinks cabinet, his hands shaking as he retrieved a glass and poured himself a large measure of whisky. "I can't go through this again, Tris, I can't…"

"So you're just going to bury your head in the sand and pretend it's not happening? Wait for someone to tell you that she's dead? And then what?"

"I don't know."

"Are you sure of the prognosis?"

"Yes, the doctor was very clear. He was surprised she had survived this long." He flinched suddenly at the feel of Tristan's hand on his shoulder. "Please don't give me your pity, Tristan, I don't deserve it."

"Don't deserve it? What does that even mean?"

He turned to face his brother again. "What do you think it means?"

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you."

"If it weren't for me…" he paused, his voice cracking on the words. "If it weren't for me, this would never have happened."

"You can't say that."

"I can."

"Siegfried…"

"If it weren't for me, she would never have gone up there. It's because _I_ encouraged her to take an interest in the profession, _I_ encouraged her to learn things and to put them into practice because I had some…some _fool notion_ of her being my partner in every way. If it weren't for me showing her what to do when a sheep has _bloody_ listeriosis she wouldn't have _known_ what to do and she wouldn't have gone! She would have stayed here with Mrs Hall and Emily and been safe! We would be getting married tomorrow instead of…of…" his vision blurred, and he turned away again, unwilling for his brother to see the true depths of his emotion, of his despair. "I've killed her, just like I killed Evelyn."

"That is _not_ true!" Tristan gripped his shoulders and turned him around. "You didn't kill Evelyn…"

"I did."

"How? By going to war?"

"If I had stayed with her, she would never have drunk the milk…"

"You don't know that."

"I _do_ know that Tristan! I _do_ know that! She would have been in _our_ home, with me, not living at the farm because I was thousands of miles away doing what I thought was my duty!"

"It _was_ your duty!"

"Was it? Or was it just a vanity project because I loved horses so much and saw them as my way of helping?"

"It was war, Siegfried, you had no choice."

"I had every choice! Father was right. I should have stayed in England and practiced as I was meant to. Evelyn would still be alive if I had done that. But she isn't. She isn't and I have carried her memory with me for all of these years and…and known that I didn't deserve a second chance at being happy and then Lily…Lily came along and…and I fought how I felt for her because I thought it was my penance to be alone…" he felt a sudden acute pain that made him want to double over. "But I told myself that I _was_ allowed to be happy again and she made me happy, she made me so…happy…"

"Siegfried…"

"Only now, she's being taken away from me and it's a punishment. It has to be. There's no other reason for it. It's a punishment for thinking myself entitled to lasting happiness after what happened before and, just to make it worse, it's happening again at my own hand…"

"This is ridiculous," Tristan shook his head. "You're acting as though you not only forced Evelyn to drink that milk but also somehow managed to force Lily to crash the van. They were, and are, both individuals, Siegfried, capable of making their own decisions. You are not responsible…"

"Oh, shut up, just shut up!" he shouted, unwilling to hear any more. "You don't know what you're talking about! You're eighteen years old, for God's sake! What do you know about life, much less love? You have no idea what it feels like to care for another person, to love another person as I loved Evelyn and Lily, no idea at all!"

"Maybe I don't. But I do know this and that is, if you don't go back to that hospital, if you don't see her, then you are going to regret it for the rest of your life, just as you regret not being there for Evelyn. Staying here isn't going to change anything, Siegfried. She deserves you to be with her!"

"Deserves…" he laughed humourlessly and poured himself another drink. "She deserves never to have met me, that's what she deserves."

"Siegfried…"

"Just leave me alone, please!"

"So you can drink yourself into a stupor and wallow in self-pity? I don't think so!"

"Fine," he replied, snatching up the decanter. "Then _I'll_ leave."

"Where are you going?"

"To my room."

"But…"

"Go away, Tristan!" He took the stairs two at a time, unwilling to hear any more of his brother's words, not wanting to think or feel...anything. It was an odd feeling being so drunk that one wasn't in control of one's faculties. There was a certain pleasantness to it, a glow, a lightness, sensations that ordinary life couldn't seem to replicate. Yes, the aftermath was crushing, but that was for later. He slammed his bedroom door and locked it, lest Tristan take a notion of trying to speak reason further. Then he poured himself another glass and began his journey to oblivion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did try to do some research on what medical treatment might have been available in 1932 but it wasn’t entirely clear, nor how doctors would have diagnosed. Perhaps Lily wouldn’t have survived the injuries I’ve described at all but we all know that she does.


	32. Chapter 32

**30 January 1932**

He woke from sleep suddenly, unsure precisely what had roused him, and noticed immediately that darkness had fallen. His concept of time was shaky. He found himself unable to recall when he had been at the hospital, when he had collected Tristan from the train station, when he had started drinking again. As he moved in the bed, he heard the sudden shattering of glass and, turning on the lamp, realised that the glass he had been using had rolled onto the floor and smashed into several pieces, traces of honey coloured liquid oozing onto the floor. He sat staring at them where they lay for a long time, imagining that those pieces were, in fact, his life now shattered in front of him. Miraculously, he didn't feel as ghastly as he had done after his previous awakening and could only surmise that sleep had claimed him before the full effects of liquor were able to.

As he sat, motionless on the bed, he suddenly became aware of voices from below and he felt his heart sink into his boots. One sounded like Tristan, the other Mrs Hall and, if she had returned, it most likely could only mean one thing.

Lily was dead.

He rose slowly from the bed and moved towards the door, unlocking and pulling it open gently, the voices growing louder and more coherent as a result. The smell of cooking wafted through the air towards him and he felt his stomach growl with a hunger he hadn't realised that he felt. He tried to remember the last time he had eaten but could only recall a smattering of snacks at his ill-fated stag party. Those carefree moments of drunkenness, of happy revelry, of joy seemed so far away now as to be meaningless.

He descended the stairs slowly, the voices halting as he approached the kitchen and he indeed saw Tristan and Mrs Hall within, their gazes swivelling to meet his as he reached the doorway and he found his own dotting between them, wondering who would speak first.

"Siegfried," Tristan greeted him after a long moment. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," he replied hurriedly, quickly realising that it was the wrong answer to give under the circumstances. "That is to say, I don't feel hungover, if that's what you were implying."

"It wasn't, actually."

His brother's tone stung, but he ignored it and looked over at his housekeeper. "Mrs Hall."

"Mr Farnon."

"You've returned."

"I 'ave."

"How…the hospital…" he fought for the right words, "did you…I mean…"

"She's still alive."

The three words brought him up short and he found himself staring at her, momentarily incapable of speech. "She's…but the doctor said…"

"'e were pretty surprised 'imself. Said 'e thought she looked a little better. Told us to go 'ome and get some rest."

"Us?"

"Mr Bailey and meself. Tristan were good enough to drive through and collect us." She smiled at the younger man appreciatively and he couldn't fail to miss the difference in the way she had last looked at him.

"I knocked on your door, but you didn't reply," Tristan said. "I suppose you must have been asleep.

"What time is it?" he glanced at the clock on the wall, the hands suddenly seeming to make no sense.

"It's just gone seven."

"In the morning?"

"Yes, in the morning," Mrs Hall replied. "I've made a bit of breakfast. Sit yourself down." He found himself doing as she asked, his mind racing. Lily…she was still alive. She hadn't succumbed as the doctor feared she would. Did that mean…could it mean…? "I'm going back," she broke into his thoughts again. "Tom Bailey said 'e would pick me up on the way. I were 'oping that you might come with us."

He paused, looking up again to meet her gaze. There was no rancour in it, no malice, simply a faint trace of hope that he would agree, that he would somehow come to the senses that she was convinced he had unwittingly and unwillingly lost. He swallowed hard and then looked at Tristan who, in contrast, wore the expression of someone thoroughly contemptuous of all that had been previously said. "I…"

"Please." She put a plate down in front of him. "She needs you."

"Needs me…" he felt his eyes blur with unshed tears again, the bacon and eggs before him misting into nothingness. "She doesn't need me. All I've done is…is cause this…"

"Oh, for heaven's sake Siegfried!" Tristan exclaimed loudly, causing both he and Mrs Hall to jump. "This isn't you! This…this self-pitying, pathetic…"

"Tristan…"

"No, Mrs H, I'm going to say what I think and he's going to jolly well listen! _You_ are no more the cause of this than you were of Evelyn's death, despite what you might want to think."

" _Want_ to think?" he looked up quickly at his brother. "You believe I _want_ to think this way?"

"Yes, I do." Tristan folded his arms. "You've spent _years_ blaming yourself for what happened to Evelyn, with no real foundation to do so other than your own misplaced guilt over being at war and whatever blame her father erroneously placed at your door! You've wrapped yourself up in those feelings which were precisely to blame for the time you took to allow yourself to love Lily and now, tragedy has stuck again and you're once more allowing yourself to wallow…"

" _Allowing_ myself…"

"Yes, allowing yourself! This is comfortable for you, isn't it? Familiar. It's a feeling you _like…"_

"How dare you!" he got to his feet and faced his brother, shocked at what he was saying, shaking with anger. "You have no idea _what_ I'm feeling!"

"It's an excuse! An excuse to tell yourself that you were right all along, that everyone who blamed you for Evelyn was right all along. It's a validation for you. A way to…to bury your head in the sand and not have to talk about it. That's what you did after Evelyn died, Siegfried. You never talked about it. You never talked about _her!"_

"And who would have wanted to listen?! You? You were a child! You're still a child and yet you think yourself qualified to tell me how _I'm_ feeling? You have no idea, none at all. Nobody does! Nobody knows but me how it felt to be told that Evelyn was ill when I was so many thousands of miles away, _powerless_ to do anything! Nobody knows but me how it felt to finally arrive home only to be told that she was dead and buried! Nobody knows…"

"And you _like_ that fact, don't you? It makes you feel so _superior_ to everyone else. _Nobody_ could _possibly_ understand the grief you felt, the _guilt_ you felt, isn't that right?"

"I…"

"And you used it as an excuse to shut yourself away from the world, to become a solitary widower who would _never_ entertain the idea of loving again. And now, you're planning to do _exactly_ the same thing. And you're not even going to _try!_ "

"Try _what?_ What is it that you think I need to _try?_ "

"You need to try and stop blaming yourself for things that are outside of your control. You need to accept that things happen in life and you can't horde all the guilt!" Tristan paused. "You need to try and say goodbye to Lily _properly_."

He swallowed hard against the lump that had risen in his throat. He didn't want to have to say goodbye to Lily. Didn't want to be there when she passed. If he just stayed in Skeldale House, it would happen, and he would just…just carry on. Go back to the life he led before he met her. It would be so much easier that way than to have to confront the reality of the situation. "I don't want to say goodbye to her."

Tristan paused and then stepped forward, putting his hand on his brother's shoulder in a gesture of solidarity rather than anger. "I know. But maybe if you have the chance to say goodbye this time, it might be easier in the long run."

"I reckon…I reckon she were 'olding on for you."

He looked over at Mrs Hall, at the empathy he now saw in her eyes. She was a kind woman, strict in her views, but kind, nevertheless. He knew that whatever shock or outrage she had felt when he had abandoned her at the hospital, she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, aware of how painful this all was for him. He thought about Lily, his Lily, hovering between life and death perhaps, as his housekeeper had opined, waiting for him. Almost as though she required his permission. He looked again at Tristan, at the stubborn look on his face and couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at how his little brother had stood up to him, had spoken some semblance of sense. He had always been afraid that Tristan would be too foolish, too stupid to ever be able to reason like the adult he was slowly becoming, and yet he had probably talked more knowledgeably in the last few moments than he had in the previous eighteen years.

"All right," he said finally, his voice reedy and shaky to his own ears. "All right, I'll go."

XXXX

The drive back to York was undertaken in relative silence. Lily's father had looked none too enamoured when Mrs Hall had informed him upon his arrival at Skeldale House that Siegfried was going to accompany them back to the hospital. He could tell from the frosty atmosphere that Tom wanted to say something and yet, by some miracle, he held his tongue for the entire journey, focusing only on the road in front of him and making an occasional comment about the weather. He never mentioned his daughter and neither did Siegfried, too afraid of what might be said as a result.

When they finally reached their destination, Tom brought the van to a stop and switched off the engine, turning in his seat to look at him. "You want to go in alone?"

"I…" he paused, panic suddenly flitting through him. The thought of seeing Lily, in whatever condition she might be in, was nerve-wracking enough, but he had anticipated having the welcome presence of both of his companions to soften the blow. He glanced at Mrs Hall, who nodded imperceptibly at him, before he turned back to Tom. "Yes…if you don't mind." The other man didn't reply and so it was left to him to exit the vehicle and walk back through the hospital entrance he had left so hurriedly the day before. As he entered, his eyes strayed to the clock on the wall and saw that it was almost twelve-thirty. Under normal circumstances, they would have been getting married in just over an hour.

Having not thought to ask either Tom or Mrs Hall where Lily was, he was left to ask a passing nurse, who guided him to the ward in question, the silence when he entered almost deafening. There were a number of beds in the room, all with curtains pulled tightly around and a stern-faced matron in the corner who scowled at him as he approached her. "I'm…I'm here to see Lily Bailey."

Her mouth pursed slightly, and she pointed to the bed in the furthest corner. "No nonsense now," she said, and he found himself poised to ask her what on earth she could mean, only to realise that it was likely pointless.

Following her direction, he made his way over to the bed, the curtain pulled around almost seeming to mock him, like a shroud ready for a grave. He paused slightly, taking a deep breath before gently parting it, terrified in case he had picked the wrong bed and might find someone unknown to him entirely within. He recognised her almost immediately, however, the fieriness of her hair stark against the crisp white bedlinen. Slowly, he opened the curtain move fully and stepped inside, his heart beating wildly in his chest as he took in her appearance.

Her face was almost free of blemishes, save for a nasty cut on her cheek and a large bruise on her forehead. Other than that, she was just as he had remembered last seeing her. Her eyes were closed, the lashes lying softly against her skin. It was almost as though she was merely sleeping and would awaken at any point. He moved closer to the bed where an uncomfortable looking chair was positioned and lowered himself into it. Glancing down, he realised that if he just reached out, he could take hold of her hand in his and yet, something stopped him. He had no idea how she would feel. Would her hand be as warm as it ever had been entwined with his own, or would it be cold in the anticipation of death?

 _It's only her hand,_ he told himself as he continued to stare at it. _It can't hurt you for God's sake. What would Tristan say if he could see you?_ His brother's opinion of him had never really mattered before, but after all that had been said, in some sense, he didn't want to appear weak before him. Tentatively, he reached out, his fingers brushing gently against her skin, his heart racing as he closed himself around it and was gratified by her warmth. Slowly, he brought it up to his mouth and kissed it softly, before opening her palm and laying it on his cheek as she had done so many times in the past. "Lily…" he whispered. "My darling Lily…"

"She's heavily sedated."

The sound of a male voice caused him to start and quickly drop her hand. Looking up, he saw the curtain had been pulled back and Dr Wright stood at the end of the bed, looking at him curiously. "I…"

"We have her on a strong concoction of medication. An attempt to keep her stabilised before surgery."

"Surgery?" he found his voice. "You're…you're going to operate?"

"Yes. Later this afternoon, if she holds on."

"But…but yesterday you said that…that she was going to die."

"Well, medicine isn't infallible. I'm sure you know that, in your own profession." Dr Wright adjusted his glasses and looked at him again. "You left rather abruptly yesterday."

"As did you," he replied without thinking. "After you gave us your pronouncement of her imminent demise."

"Well, I'm a very busy man. But I would have thought you might have stayed, being her betrothed. I suppose her parents were attentive at any rate."

Siegfried elected to ignore the mistake he had made over, what he assumed, was Mrs Hall's identity and indeed the veiled criticism of his own actions and tried to focus on what the other man was saying. "So…you think you can save her?"

"I didn't say that." Dr Wright took off his glasses and rubbed them against his shirt. "But I'd like to try. She's a young woman, otherwise healthy, so her father said. Given her prognosis, it seems an ideal opportunity, though there are no guarantees."

He glanced back at Lily, still motionless on the bed before him. "What will you do?"

"You said that you were a veterinarian."

"Yes, that's right."

"Then your knowledge extends only to the anatomy of animals."

"Well, I…"

"Why don't you leave the treatment of the human being to me Mr…uh…"

"Farnon."

"Mr Farnon. And I'll leave the treatment of animals to you." He looked at him pointedly, and Siegfried couldn't help feeling squashed by the subtle yet clear put-down. "You can stay with her until it's time to operate if you wish. I would still recommend saying your goodbyes, however. As I've said, there are no guarantees."

"I want her to live," he took hold of Lily's hand again, squeezing it gently as though she might respond. "That's all I want."

"Yes, well. We can't always get what we want, Mr Farnon, can we?"

XXXX

"An operation?"

"Yes."

"Well, what sort of operation?"

"He didn't say exactly but…"

"You mean you never asked?"

"Well, I…"

"I thought you were meant to be some sort of bloody surgeon." Tom shook his head and looked at him contemptuously.

"I'm a veterinary surgeon," Siegfried replied, "not a human one."

"Principal must be the same, surely?"

"Well…"

"'ow did she look?" Mrs Hall asked, breaking into the conversation and putting her hand on his arm. "Lily, 'ow did she look?"

"She looked…" he paused, unsure to convey exactly what he had seen. After Dr Wright had swept away, he had sat looking at her for what had seemed like hours but, in reality, had perhaps been only minutes, trying to remember every inflection on her face, every curve of her, every strand of hair, committing it all to memory just in case… "She looked like Lily."

"She's going to live," Tom said, nodding his head emphatically. "They wouldn't be doing this if they didn't think she 'ad a chance. She's going to live."

He wished he could share the other man's optimism and yet in reality, Siegfried couldn't help but feel like the harbinger of doom bringing the bad news. He hadn't really needed to ask Dr Wright what he intended to do, only too well aware of the injuries he had described the day before. What he was intending to carry out was dangerous, invasive, internal surgery. He remembered the horrors he had seen in Belgium. Men, ripped apart, every futile effort being made to save them. Medicine may have moved on since he was on the battlefield, but surely not that much. Perhaps…perhaps they wouldn't even get to that stage. Perhaps, as Mrs Hall had proposed, Lily had only been holding on to life until he was by her side, until he had held her hand. Perhaps now, she would go.

"Aren't you glad now that you came," Mrs Hall said, framing her words not as a question, but as a forgone conclusion, as though he could feel nothing short of delight at seeing Lily as she was, at knowing that she still lingered. He wasn't sure what the appropriate answer was. He knew he should say _yes,_ but it wasn't entirely true. He would have felt better, much better, if he had remained at Skeldale House, waiting for someone else to deliver notice of the inevitable, rather than be faced with witnessing it for himself. Tristan had been right. Burying one's head in the sand could be a very comforting action.

"They said that we could stay, until it was time."

"You intend on 'anging around?" Tom eyed him carefully, his words laced with contempt.

"Yes," he replied, "of course."

"Good. For you and I will need to 'ave words, lad, whatever the outcome may be."

"Indeed," he stepped aside as Tom moved past him back in the direction of his daughter. "Of course."

"You did the right thing," Mrs Hall smiled gently. "You know you did."

"Did I?" He felt his mouth go suddenly dry. "I'm not so sure."

"Tristan were right. If you weren't 'ere, you would regret it. Much as you regret not being there for your first wife."

"And yet, perhaps I was better off, missing it all as it were."

"No," she shook her head and put his hand on his arm. "Life is made up of so many different things some, like this, inexplicable. Your place is 'ere."

"My place…" his eyes smarted again. "My place is by her side, in the church, marrying her. What kind of…of cruel hand is fate playing by doing this, today of all days?" He wanted to cry, wanted to break down and yet he didn't. He remained standing, remained as composed as he could be, though his housekeeper's expression was misted by moisture.

"I wish I knew," she replied, her voice cracking slightly on the words. "I wish I knew."


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay in updating!

Siegfried walked for a while around the city, seeing people and yet not seeing them, his breath fogging the air in front of him. The air in the hospital had felt cloying, the sweet smell of…well, he wasn't entirely sure, but after a time he had been able to stand it no longer and had taken his leave, promising to only be away for a short time to clear his head. In truth, however, being away from Lily's bedside brought him no more comfort than being sat with her did. Every time he looked at Tom, he could feel the other man's anger and resentment, occasionally caught him looking at him, clearly with so much to say that he didn't want to unleash in front of his daughter. He knew what would be coming and whilst he did not welcome it, knew he deserved it.

When he arrived back, he found Tom and Mrs Hall standing out in the corridor and a chill suddenly coursed through him. He hurried over to them, terrified as to what knowledge they might impart and yet knowing it was, likely, inevitable.

"We thought we'd give you some time alone with her," Mrs Hall said, as he looked at her questioningly. "The doctor said 'e were going to be operating at three o'clock."

He glanced at his watch and saw that it was twenty minutes to the hour. Twenty minutes. That might be all the time he had left with her. He looked at Tom, at the pinched expression on his face, and knew that there was little point in debating the merits of anything at that moment. There were words that needed to be said and he only had some twenty minutes in which to say them.

"Thank you," he nodded at them both before making his way back to the ward to Lily's bedside. She remained unchanged from the last time he saw her, deep in medicated sleep, looking for all the world as though nothing remotely grave had happened, as though she wasn't hovering between this world and the next. Sitting down beside her again, he took hold of her hand and pressed it to his lips. "My darling…I love you more than you will ever know. I still recall the first time I laid eyes on you, in the kitchen at Windy Hill, when I mistook your father for your husband. Little did I know then that I would one day be able to call you mine, that I would feel for you the way I do." He paused and swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. "You have changed my life, far beyond that which I could ever have expected. Before I met you, I would never have conceived of being able to love again, and you changed that. You changed everything. You changed me. I wish…I wish that I had been with you that night, that I had gone with you to George Sharp's, that I had been driving the bloody van instead of…drinking myself into a stupor." He shook his head. "I always appear to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Belgium…the Drovers…one so removed from the other and yet…" He paused and kissed her hand again. "I want you to know that I would not have missed the time with you, not for anything. I only wish…I only wish that you can hear me now, that you know what I'm asking of you. Please…please stay with me. Marry me and be my wife, my partner, mother to my children…please. I don't want to do any of it without you by my side."

"It's time to leave."

He jumped at the sound of a female voice behind him and, turning, saw the hard-faced matron standing behind him. "Oh…I…"

"Doctor wants everyone to leave now so that he can prepare."

"I see, I…" he looked at his watch and saw the hands slowly approaching the hour. "I didn't realise how much time had passed."

"No, no-one ever does. On your feet now, sir, if you please."

"Yes, of course…" he looked back at Lily one last time and dropped a soft kiss on her cheek. "Goodbye my darling." Then he turned and walked away, back in the direction of the hospital entrance where he found Tom and Mrs Hall sitting awkwardly. "They're taking her away now," he relayed as they got to their feet. "I suppose now, all we can do is wait." Mrs Hall put his hand on her arm and squeezed gently. He felt comforted by her touch, even though she wasn't who he wished her to be and put his hand over hers to return the gesture. "I should telephone Tristan."

"I'll do it," she replied, "you sit yourself down."

He knew she meant it kindly, but he couldn't help but feel slightly anxious about being alone with Tom knowing, as he did, that Lily's father no doubt intended to take him to task for his earlier abandonment. Before he could object, however, Mrs Hall had disappeared in search of the telephone leaving the two men alone in the corridor. He wished he could ignore the whole issue for the time being, but the atmosphere felt so strained that he knew he needed to address it. "I'm sorry, Mr Bailey."

"What for?" Tom replied, in a tone that belied the question.

"I'm sorry that I left here so abruptly yesterday. I don't expect you to understand my reasons for doing so but, well, I offer my apologies in any event."

"What were they?"

"What were what?"

"Your reasons?"

He paused for a long moment, his brain working overtime to, somehow, put his thoughts in order. "This is not the first time that I've experienced this, the loss of my wife, that is. You're aware that my first wife died whilst I was on active service and…well…I've blamed myself for many years for not being with her, not being able to prevent her death in some way and I suppose…"

"You blame yourself for what 'appened to my Lily."

He finally met Tom's gaze. "Yes, I suppose I do."

"Good. You should."

He paused, somewhat taken aback by the baldness of the answer. He might have expected the other man to couch it in better, softer language, or to at least make a pretence of trying to assuage his feelings. But then, Tom Bailey had never been anything other than direct, so what else had he really expected. "I…"

"As do I."

"I'm…I'm sorry?"

"I said, as do I. You think you're the only one who feels responsible for that girl? I'm 'er father. I've raised 'er all these years, tried to protect 'er and keep 'er safe and I've failed at that." Tom shook his head. "We both love 'er. It's only natural that we feel responsible for what 'appens to 'er."

It wasn't the speech that he had been expecting and he found himself quite mesmerised by the other man's words. It was perhaps the most heartfelt thing he had ever hear him say. "It's hardly _your_ fault," he offered generously.

"'ow is it any less my fault than it is yours?"

"Well…" he sighed. "I encouraged her to take an interest in veterinary medicine. It was me who showed her how to administer treatment. If I haven't done that, she would never have taken it upon herself to go to the Sharp farm and would never have been on that road."

"And if I 'adn't been determined to get drunk at the pub, she would never 'ave been needing to drive the van that night at all."

"No," he shook his head, "My culpability is far greater than yours. It has to be."

"Why? Because it makes you feel better to think that way? Anyway…" Tom shook his head. "Whoever's to blame for 'er 'aving the accident is neither 'ere nor there. What I want to know, is why you ran away."

He felt his cheeks burn, as though he was being dressed down by a schoolmaster and asked to explain his actions. "I felt…feel…responsible and…and I just couldn't stay."

"Couldn't or wouldn't?"

"Both, I suppose. When the doctor told us that she was going to die I just felt so…helpless, like I did all those years ago when I received word that Evelyn was ill and I just…I couldn't face it, couldn't face her. I realise now that it was the wrong thing to do and…and I'm asking your forgiveness."

Tom let out a long breath before replying. "Lily must never know," he said sagely. "You must never tell 'er that you left 'er like that, you 'ear me? She doesn't deserve to know that the man who's supposed to love 'er the most, left 'er."

He paused, wondering if he should address the elephant in the room, namely, that Lily might not survive to live in blissful ignorance of his own doings. But, looking at her father, he saw that he needed to believe that his child would live and it wasn't for him, at that point, to try and persuade him that another course was more likely. "Of course not," he replied. "I would never tell her."

"Good, then we say no more about it. She's going to need us after all this is over, both of us."

"Yes," he sat back in the uncomfortable chair and rested his head back against the wall, hoping against all hope that Tom was right. "Yes, she will."

XXXX

The light grew slowly darker as the time passed, the world outside eventually descending into twilight and then full darkness. The hours ticked by with no word from anyone as to what was happening and Siegfried couldn't help his mind wandering back all those years as he had made his return journey from Belgium, praying with all that he had that Evelyn would recover, unaware that she had already succumbed. The relief at the sight of his own father, waiting for him at the train station, almost immediately lost by the words he had imparted to him.

_"I'm so sorry, Siegfried. I'm afraid Evelyn is dead and has been for some time now."_

He had allowed himself to be driven home in something of a stupor, almost unable to take him what he had been told, unwilling to believe that it had already happened, angered at the fact that his return home had all been for nothing. It was much like as he had felt driving back to Darrowby the previous day, having been given the news of Lily's imminent demise, the disbelief that it had happened again.

"Did you 'ave words?" Mrs Hall had asked when she had returned from telephoning Tristan.

"Yes, but it's fine," he had replied, feeling relieved at the outcome. "We understand each other."

"I'm glad to 'ear it. Tristan sends 'is best."

"That's kind. I hope he's managing all right."

"Well there was no surgery planned anyway being as what today was supposed to be. I told 'im to just make sure 'e kept the place looking respectable in our absence."

"Chance would be a fine thing," he had allowed himself to chuckle, before the grim reality of the situation had come back to him. He knew he owed Tristan an apology for things that had been said and he only hoped, in the aftermath of whatever happened, he was able to find the strength to say them.

Hours longer seemed to drag by before he heard the sound of footsteps and, looking up, saw Doctor Wright approaching them. Instinctively, he leapt to his feet, his heart pounding in his chest, his mouth bone dry. This was it. This was the moment when he found out the course his life was about to take.

"Doctor…" Tom stood up quickly. "'ow…ow is she?"

"Alive."

Siegfried felt all the breath leave his body in one go, his head swimming slightly, and he was suddenly grateful for Mrs Hall grabbing hold of his arm.

"Then…she's going to be all right? My Lily's going to be all right?"

"Well, we still have to keep a very close eye on her," the doctor replied. "I'm not saying that she's completely out of the woods yet, but I must say, I am hopeful."

"That's…that's wonderful news…" Siegfried heard himself say, though his voice sounded far away to his own ears. "I…I can't believe it…"

"There are, however, several complications."

"Complications?" Mrs Hall asked. "What sort of complications?"

"Well…" Doctor Wright looked pointedly at Siegfried. "I think it unlikely that she will ever bear children given her injuries…"

"That doesn't matter," he said quickly. "Of course, that would never matter so long as she was all right."

"But more importantly…I'm afraid that I have grave concerns for her mobility."

"Mobility?" Tom frowned. "'ow do you mean?"

"I mean, Mr Bailey, I'm afraid that she may never walk again."

XXXX

She had no concept of where she was. Her mind was foggy, unfocused, her brain almost unwilling to find a fixed moment in time to concentrate on. Her body felt as though it were in flight, swooping and diving in the air, changing direction every few seconds and whirling her around. At first, she could only see darkness then, ever so slowly, a pinprick of light appeared, growing bigger and brighter by the second and when she finally felt able to open her eyes, the first person that she saw was a man, unfamiliar to her, leaning down into her face, holding something close to her eyes.

"Ah yes, Miss Bailey. Lovely to have you back with us."

His voice was equally unfamiliar, his presence so close to her as to feel claustrophobic, but as she tried to move her body away from him, she found herself feeling heavy, weighted, and rooted to the spot.

"Don't try to move now, there's a good girl."

His words irritated her, much like Doctor Bellamy's did when he called her 'little Lily' and it was only as her vision continued to clear and she was able to look around that she realised she was lying in what could only be considered as a hospital bed. The man looming over her was clearly a doctor and there were two female nurses stationed at her feet.

"Where…?"

"You're in hospital," he replied curtly. "In York. Look into this light please." She did as he asked, screwing up her eyes as he moved from one to the other, leaving spots dancing in her vision. "Well that all looks fine." He leaned back slightly. "How do you feel?"

It seemed a loaded question. How did she feel? She had just woken from some kind of slumber to find herself in hospital with no recollection as to how she had ended up there. The last thing she remembered was coming down Hoddon Hill…

"What…what day…?" her mouth felt dry, her tongue sticking to the roof, almost preventing her from getting her words out.

"It's Saturday 30th January."

_Saturday…her wedding day…she should be at the church or…or married by now._

"I…"

"Try and not exert yourself too much. You've been through a terribly traumatic event. There will be plenty of time to discuss everything in due course." He patted her arm.

"Siegfried…"

"Ah yes, Mr Farnon. He and your parents are waiting outside. They've been told that you came out of theatre and are recovering, but I think perhaps it might be best to send them home for the evening and invite them to return tomorrow."

"My…parents? No…" she shook her head. "No, I…I want to…to see…"

"Well, I suppose a few minutes won't hurt. Matron, would you show them in please?"

One of the nurses bobbed her head and then disappeared from view. The doctor stayed by her side, the reason for which she knew not, until she heard the sound of collective footsteps and her father's face appeared at the bedside. "Dad…"

"Oh, my darling girl…" he said, reaching for her hand, the tears coursing down his cheeks. "I'm so thankful you've been spared my girl, so thankful. Everything's going to be all right. You're going to be all right." He kissed her hand and then glanced down towards the bottom of the bed, as though looking for something. "You gave us all a terrible fright. You shouldn't have taken the van up there yourself in that weather, lass. But you'll know for next time." He nodded sharply, as though he was convincing himself more than her. "Here... Siegfried…see 'ow good our Lily looks."

He stepped backwards, out of her line of vision and, suddenly, Siegfried filled it. His face was pale and there were dark circles under his eyes. But he was there, and she felt a warmth fill her body. "Siegfried…" He took her hand in his and squeezed it. "Siegfried…"

"Don't exert yourself," he said, his voice husky to her ears and thick with emotion. "You have to concentrate now on…on getting well." She watched as he too glanced towards the bottom of the bed and she frowned slightly. "I'm so glad you're all right, my darling."

"It's…it's Saturday."

"Yes, I know."

"We…we should be…getting married."

"That can wait," he said, "everything can wait. You just have to focus on getting better."

"I think that's enough for today," the doctor said suddenly. "Lily will be exhausted from all that's happened and there will be plenty of time for conversations and discussions about treatment in the coming days."

"Treatment?" she looked at Siegfried again. "What's…wrong with me?"

"You crashed the van," he replied. "You were coming down the hill from George Sharp's farm. Do you remember?"

"Yes but…but why do I need treatment?" He hesitated slightly and she felt a cold stab of fear. "Siegfried…what's wrong with me?"

"It's…it's nothing serious," he bent and kissed her gently on the forehead. "We can talk about it tomorrow my darling, like Doctor Wright says."

"But…" Before any more could be said, Siegfried and her father moved back away from the bed and she was once again alone with the doctor and nurses, still stationed at her feet. "What's wrong with me?" she asked again. "What do I need treatment for?"

The doctor's lips pinched together. "I'm afraid you're crippled."

The words held no meaning for her. "Crippled? I don't…I don't understand…"

"Paralysed. You damaged your spine in the accident. Chances are, you won't walk again."


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again for the delay! Please keep reading!

**31 January 1932**

Lily barely slept. How could she after what the doctor had told her? When he had looked at her with seemingly little empathy and said that it was likely she would never walk again. Did he expect her to drift off into contented slumber? Nothing could have been further from the reality. She lay in the bed, willing her legs to move, growing frustrated at the numb sensation and feeling utterly confused by the fact that she thought she was moving them and yet nothing was happening. Hot tears had run down her face and pooled on the pillow behind her head and when the nurses had come to check on her, to find out why she wasn't sleeping like everyone else, they simply chided her and told her that she had to rest.

"'ow can I rest?" she had demanded. "Could _you_ rest, being given such news?"

They'd had no response for her and so she had continued to lie there, staring at the ceiling, wishing that she could change so many things. She should never have got into the damn van, should never have driven up to George Sharp's farm. What hubris had led her to believe that she was so capable of diagnosing a problem with his sheep that she should venture out in such terrible weather? When had she become so arrogant, so full of her own capabilities? It was right what people in the village had said when she had first started to help Siegfried at the surgery; she was getting ideas above her station, ideas that had now led her to this moment.

Siegfried…

When she thought about him, about the expression on his face when he had looked at her, she wanted to weep more. What must he think of her? Did he share her views on her own stupidity? Did he think her ridiculous and liable to rebuke for what she had done? Could he ever look at her in the same way as he had done before? Closing her eyes, she thought of all they had done together; walked in the hills, ridden Lord Hulton's horses, made love…how could they do any of those things now?

She awoke with a sudden jolt and realised that she must have, eventually, succumbed to sleep. The curtain around her bed was pulled back and a breakfast tray was placed in front of her, consisting of a bowl of some sort of porridge-like substance and a mug of dark tea. She should have been ravenous, given that she couldn't remember the last time she had eaten anything, but the sight of the food only turned her stomach and she pushed it away.

"You need to eat," one of the nurses said, tutting slightly at her actions. "Can't let good food go to waste."

"I'm not 'ungry."

"This isn't a restaurant you know. You can't just order food whenever you feel like it. If you don't eat now, then there's nothing else until lunchtime."

Reluctantly, she allowed the nurse to help her slide into a seated position, wincing at the pain from her stitches, and then lifted the spoon. The porridge was lumpy and somewhat lukewarm, but she forced it down as best as she could and drank the tea. "I need to go to the toilet," she said when the nurse returned to remove the dishes.

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do. I can feel it."

The nurse looked at her sympathetically. "You can't feel it, love and besides, you've got a catheter in, so you don't need to go to the toilet."

"A what?"

"A catheter. It's a tube the doctor inserts into your bladder so that you don't need to go to the toilet. At least not to pass urine anyway. If you need anything else, you make sure to let us know."

"I…" the nurse was gone before she could ask any other questions, pulling open the curtain as she did so, revealing the rest of the ward. There were seven other beds around her, filled with people who looked nothing short of deathly. She wondered suddenly if that was how she looked, pale, drawn, bloodless. The thought sent a shiver through her and her fingers strayed to the hospital smock she was wearing and the tenderness of her wound underneath. She wanted to look at it and yet was afraid to. It would only be something else for her to cry over and, right at that moment, she felt devoid of tears, devoid of all emotion, devoid of all hope.

XXXX

Breakfast at Skeldale House was sombre, despite the news that Lily had survived the operation. Siegfried found himself eating mechanically and yet not really tasting anything as Mrs Hall fluttered around him, making inconsequential conversation and Tristan occasionally chipped in with a comment or two.

They had returned from the hospital the previous night in silence, Mrs Hall driving given as Tom had seemed incapable due to grief or shock or a combination of the two. Siegfried had sat beside him, his own thoughts twisting and turning in his mind. There had been so much to take in in such a short space of time. Lily was alive and yet, she might not be as she once was, at least not in the physical sense. It was almost incomprehensible.

Tristan had been characteristically upbeat at the news, opining that there were many things that could be done nowadays for such conditions and that he was confident that Lily _would_ walk again, despite what the doctor had said. He had wanted to join in his brother's optimism, had wanted to share in the belief that all would be well and, yet, he found himself incapable of doing so.

"She's a fighter, is Lily," Mrs Hall said suddenly, causing him to look up at her. "She'll come through this; I know she will. She has all of us and 'er father. She'll come through it." She nodded as though trying to convince herself of the words she was speaking. "You 'ave to tell 'er that, Mr Farnon. You 'ave to make 'er believe it."

"Me?" he replied without thinking.

"Of course you. You're her fiancé, the man who loves 'er. If anyone 'as to be the one to convince 'er that everything's going to be all right, then it's you."

"Quite right Mrs H," Tristan agreed.

"Oh well I'm glad you all think me so capable," he replied tightly. "She's just been given dreadful news and I'm supposed to…" he broke off and took a deep breath, inwardly chiding himself. "No, you're right. You're both right, I know you are. It's just…"

"It's just what?" Tristan asked. Siegfried paused, unsure whether it was wise to divulge what he was feeling. In the hours since learning about Lily's diagnosis he had found himself contemplating all that had been lost; all that she may no longer be able to do; all the dreams that he had had for their life together. "She's still the same person. Just because a person might not be able to walk again doesn't mean they've changed."

"No, of course not," he replied, "it doesn't mean a thing, does it? I mean, not being able to walk, well, that's hardly something to be concerned about now, is it?"

"There's no need to be sarcastic."

"And there's no need to be so bloody naïve! Everything has changed for her, can't you see that?"

"I can see how there might be difficulties…"

"Difficulties…" he shook his head.

"But difficulties can be overcome. She's alive, Siegfried, isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes of course it is!"

"But?"

"But…" he paused again, desperate to harness the words before he said something that might, once more, display him in a poor light. How could he convey his thoughts without sounding selfish, as though what had happened to Lily made her seem less to him, which couldn't be further from the truth. "I don't want to discuss this," he said finally. "Not until I've seen Lily."

"I think that might be best," Mrs Hall said diplomatically. "The poor lass 'as 'ad quite a shock to the system. She'll need time to process everything. Tom said 'e would be 'ere at nine, so you'd better get your skates on," she glanced at the clock.

"I think I'd rather go by myself," Siegfried replied, rising from the table. "If you don't mind, that is."

"But I thought the two of you were going to go together?"

He sighed, knowing that had been the agreement and yet finding himself wishing to make the journey alone, wishing to see her alone, talk to her alone, without her father's presence over his shoulder. Surely he was entitled to that as her fiancé? "I'm sure you can explain to him that I wanted to go early. I doubt he'll mind."

"Well…all right, if that's what you want."

"It is." Without further recourse to either of them, he left the kitchen and headed out to the hallway, lifting his keys and coat from the stand before opening the front door. "I'm not sure when I'll be back."

"Keep in touch," Mrs Hall said, following him. "Let us know 'ow she is and give 'er our love."

He felt a lump rise in his throat again and swallowed hard against it. "I will."

XXXX

She wanted to see him and yet she didn't. Every time someone came into the ward, she felt her heart start to thud loudly in her chest and she wasn't sure if it was down to expectation or fear. She winced at the memory of the pity in his eyes and could only imagine what he had been thinking. What would he say to her? What _could_ he say to her? How could he not blame her for what had happened when she blamed herself?

When he eventually arrived at her bedside, she realised that she still wasn't sure she wanted him there at all. He smiled as he approached her bed, took her hand in his and kissed it, before stooping to kiss her gently on the mouth. Then he sat down in the chair beside the bed and looked upon her with an expression that she couldn't quite place.

"I must look terrible," she said, by way of opening.

"Of course you don't," he replied, squeezing her hand. "You look as beautiful as you always have."

"I don't feel it."

"Well, naturally I wouldn't expect you to. You've been through an awful ordeal over the last few days. I thought…I really thought at one point that I was going to lose you. The doctor held out little hope for you in those first few hours. He was amazed that you had survived the crash at all."

"A crash caused by my own stupidity."

"Don't say that."

"Why not? It's the truth, isn't it? I should never 'ave gone up there. I should never 'ave thought myself qualified to…to…" she shook her head. "All over some bloody sheep with bloody laminitis." She felt his grip tighten on her hand. "I should never 'ave listened to you."

"To me?" his eyes widened. "In what sense?"

"I should never 'ave let you convince me that I 'ad it in me to become anything like you. I'm not like you. I could never be a vet, and this just proves it. I can't even control a bloody van." Tears pricked her eyes. "I should 'ave listened to me dad and stayed at 'ome."

"Lily…"

"Don't tell me you don't think the same? 'ow could you not? 'ow could you not think me arrogant and foolhardy and…"

"I don't think any of those things," he interrupted her. "I'm very proud of what you chose to do, even despite the consequences. Seeing how much you've blossomed in these last months as a direct result of what you've allowed yourself to achieve…"

"Achieve?" she snorted. "Crippling myself, you mean? Ruining everything for myself, for both of us?"

"Nothing has been ruined for me, nothing." He looked at her earnestly and yet, she found herself almost unable to believe his words. They were lies, they had to be. Everything had changed. If she never walked again, how could they live their life together? She wouldn't be able to keep house let alone assist him in his practice. How could she live at Skeldale House with the steep staircase that led to what was supposed to be her bedroom and the narrow doorways? There were so many things, things she knew she probably hadn't even thought of, preventing them from living the life they had planned.

"'ow can you say that? 'ow can you say that and mean it? I can't be a wife to you, let alone anything else, if I'm in this condition, can I?"

"The doctor only said that you _might_ not walk again. It wasn't a foregone conclusion." He leaned over and gently stroked her hair. "This changes nothing for me, Lily, nothing. I still love you as much as I did before, and I still want to marry you as much as I did before. Our life might be different but…"

"But you've had a marriage, a proper marriage, with a wife who was able to do everything and go everywhere and I'm…" she broke off as the tears slid down her cheeks and she once more tried in vain to move her legs beneath the blankets before admitting defeat and lying back against the pillows.

"Try and not over-exert yourself darling," he said softly. "It's early days, very early days. Chances are you'll be up and out of this bed before you know it and things will go back to the way they were."

"But what if they don't? What if I'm stuck like this forever? How could you possibly…?" the emotion overtook her at that point and she pulled her hand from his to cover her face as her body shook. "Why? Why 'as this 'appened?" It had been a question that had gone around and around in her mind as she lay unable to move. Why, after everything that her life had already thrown at her, was she now being tested like this? When she had finally found someone and was on the brink of everlasting happiness? Why?

"Lily…please…" she felt his arms go awkwardly around her. "Please, don't cry. I don't know why, I really don't, but we can work our way through this together, I promise. I'm here now and I'm not leaving you. I could never leave you." She pulled back and looked up at him through the mist of her tears. He seemed genuine and she could see the familiar look of love in his eyes but, as he had said, it was early days. Perhaps once the initial shock of events had worn off, he might see things differently, might see her differently. How could she bear that?

Exhaustion overtook her and she felt her eyes grow heavy as she lay back down against the pillows. It was all too much to think about, just too much, and sleep claimed her before she could think on any of it any longer.

XXXX

Away from her bedside, Siegfried felt his own emotion come to the surface and as he sat in the corridor, he put his head in his hands, willing himself to be strong and stoic, fully aware that that was what she needed at that moment. It would do her no good in the long run for him to cry with her or tell her his own thoughts. It was clear that she had plenty of her own to occupy her mind. How could he tell her that, despite his love for her, he doubted their future? It was no lie to say he wanted all of the things that the past had promised. He wanted to walk with her in the hills, ride horses with her, see her at Skeldale House flitting up and down the stairs, take her out on his rounds and watch as she came into her own treating the animals, make fierce love with her…he rubbed his eyes, hating himself for his doubt, cursing himself for thinking for one moment that she was less because of what might now afflict her. It seemed so grossly unreasonable of him. A few hours earlier, all he had wanted was for her to live and now…now that she had, all he wanted was for her to be perfect again.

"Everything all right?" He looked up suddenly to see Tom striding along the corridor towards him, his expression one of concern. "There's nowt wrong, is there?"

"No," he got to his feet. "No, she's…well…she's still here." It was a lame attempt at humour, but he could tell the other man didn't see it that way. "She's very upset."

"Why, what 'ave you said to 'er?"

"Nothing," he replied, slightly put out at the insinuation, "that is to say, nothing that wasn't positive. I tried to tell her that nothing had changed, despite what had happened and…"

"So, you lied to 'er."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You lied to 'er," Tom crossed his arms across his chest. "You told 'er that it didn't matter that she couldn't walk."

"Well of course I did. I was hardly going to say anything else now, was I? And it wasn't a lie."

"No?"

"No!" Despite his own misgivings, he found himself irked by the other man's suggestion that he was anything less than genuine in his feelings. "Are you suggesting that I would feel differently towards her if she couldn't walk?"

"Well, I don't rightly know what's in your 'ead, but I know 'ow I'd feel if it were my intended or my wife."

"And how would you feel?"

"Upset…angry…cheated out of the life I 'ad expected."

"That's not…I don't feel cheated."

"No? You're a better man than me then. There's not many out there who would say they would want a cripple for a wife. Makes life all that much more difficult. She'll be limited in what she can do in the 'ome and working with you is probably a non-starter. You'll spend more time than I'm sure you'd like tending to 'er needs and caring for 'er. Not to mention the fact that the doctor said she'd be unlikely to bear you any children, crippled or not."

The presumptions stung, seemingly all the more for the fact that Tom was putting into words what he himself had been feeling. And yet, surely it was only human to have these thoughts? Surely someone who didn't have them would have had to be living in some kind of denial?

"Might be better if you walk away now."

The last sentence brought him up short and he met the other man's gaze, trying to read his expression. "I don't…"

"If you can't 'andle whatever's going to 'appen to 'er, walk away now. It'll be for the best in the long run, save 'er getting 'er 'opes up over you."

"I'm not going to walk away," he replied, angrily. "I would never just walk away."

"No? You were going to when you thought she were dying. You weren't even going to come 'ere, remember?"

"Yes, and we discussed that, and I said…"

"I know what you said. Fact is, sometimes death is a blessing compared to what can be left behind. Not everyone can deal with it and those that can't, need to get out sooner rather than later. Saves a lot of 'urt all round."

"And _you_ can deal with it, I suppose?" Siegfried challenged him.

"I'm 'er father," Tom replied, "bonded to 'er by blood. There's no walking away for me. But you…you could be anybody."

"That's…that's outrageous…"

"What I'm trying to say, Farnon, is that if you don't think you can commit to 'er, fully and properly regardless of whether she can walk or not, then you need to decide that now and leave 'er be. I won't 'ave you filling 'er 'ead about a future and then running away at some point down the road when it all becomes too much. It's all or it's nothing. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand, and I can assure you that…that I'm here for Lily, irrespective of what she may or may not be able to do."

"Right then," Tom stepped back and nodded. "I'm glad we understand each other then. If you don't mind, I'll go and see 'ow my daughter is this morning."

Left alone once more in the corridor, Siegfried found himself sinking back down into the chair, his whole body shaking at the confrontation, such as it had been, For the other man to have seemingly recognised his own fears and seen fit to comment on then...

"I am committed to Lily," he whispered to himself. "I love Lily. I will never leave Lily, never, not for anything."


	35. Chapter 35

**14 February 1932**

**Two Weeks Later**

"Are you quite sure 'e's all right?"

"Yes, I'm quite sure."

"Quite, quite sure?"

"I'm quite, quite sure."

"I mean, I know 'e's advancing in years, but 'e really is the closest thing I 'ave in my life now that my Edward has gone and, well, the thought of anything ever 'appening to 'im fills me with such dread."

Siegfried paused as Mrs Norris scooped Donald up into her arms and rubbed her face into his fur. It never ceased to amaze him how some people reacted to animals. Of course, as a vet, he liked animals and cared for them, but having them as pets had never really been something to which he subscribed. He certainly couldn't imagine caring for an animal as one might a child or a spouse. And yet, he couldn't help but feel touched at the scene in front of him.

"I can assure you Mrs Norris that Donald is in rude health. I have no doubt that he'll outlive us all!"

"Well, isn't that wonderful news?" she smiled at Donald and then looked back at him. "Thank you, Mr Farnon. You've no idea 'ow you've put my mind at rest."

"Not at all, it's my pleasure." He opened the door of the examination room and led her back out into the hallway. "If you have any further concerns, please don't hesitate to contact me."

"I will, thank you. Oh," she paused, turning back to look at him again. "I almost forgot to ask; 'ow is dear Lily?"

"She's…well…" he floundered for words, trying to decide how best to describe the situation in which they now found themselves. "She's as well as can be expected under the circumstances."

"Such a terrible thing. A terrible thing."

"Yes, indeed."

"'er so full of life too, and on the cusp of a new life with your good self," she smiled gently at him. "It's 'ard when what we 'ad envisaged is taken away."

"Quite."

"You will give 'er my love, won't you? I do 'ope that once she's well enough to come 'ome she'll allow me to pay a call on 'er."

"I'm sure she would love that," he replied, opening the front door for her. "Goodbye now."

"Goodbye, Mr Farnon, God bless."

Closing the door behind her, Siegfried let out a long sigh of relief at being alone again. The appointments having finished for the morning, he was gratified that the hallway was empty and, for a moment, simply stood with his own thoughts.

Dr Wright had proclaimed Lily well enough to leave York a week ago and she had subsequently been transferred to the Cottage Hospital in Skipton for convalescence. It had been a blessing in one sense, given that it was so much closer to Darrowby and therefore made visiting that much easier but, in another, it had felt as though the great medics of York had washed their hands of her.

"Nothing more to be done for her here," Dr Wright had stated in his regular forthright manner. "She'll be far better off at Skipton where they can work more closely with her on her therapy."

Tom had seemed pleased at the move, convinced that it was progress, but Siegfried himself couldn't help but think they were simply shifting responsibility for her from one place to another, with no real plan as to how to possibly help her. Over the last two weeks, there had been no sign of any feeling returning to her legs, or of any prospect being in sight of her being able to walk. On the occasions when he had visited her, he had found her regularly in tears, angry and frustrated about not being able to do anything and, more often than not, he had left her side more thoroughly depressed than he had been on his arrival.

"Lunch is ready," Mrs Hall said, appearing at the kitchen door. "Everything all right?"

"What? Oh yes, yes fine," he replied hurriedly. "I'll just wash my hands." Divesting himself of his coat, he quickly freshened up at the sink before heading into the kitchen where a bowl of steaming soup awaited him on the table. "Thank you, Mrs Hall. This looks delicious."

"No problem," she replied, sitting down opposite him and pouring some tea. "'ow was Donald?"

"Oh, absolutely fine. In better health than you or I."

"She'll 'ave been pleased to 'ear that. Mrs Norris, that is."

"Yes, yes she was." He found his mind drifting as he repetitively brought the spoon to his mouth, wondering what Lily would be having for lunch. On one of his last visits, she had complained that the food was practically inedible.

"Are you planning on going to see Lily this afternoon?"

"Oh, uh, no. No, I've got rounds this afternoon which will, no doubt, tie me up for the rest of the day. Perhaps tomorrow."

"I see."

He wasn't sure if she had meant to sound critical, but he took it that way anyway and looked over to meet her gaze. "You see what?"

"Nothing, it were just a remark."

"It sounded more like a rebuke."

"Well, it wasn't," she put her cup back down in its saucer. "But I 'ave to say…"

"What?"

"Well…you 'aven't looked very 'appy of late."

"You find that surprising, given the circumstances?"

"I would 'ave thought 'aving Lily closer would 'ave been something to be pleased about, yes."

"I _am_ pleased that she's nearby, it's just…" he looked down into his soup. "It's just that she's so very unhappy and that, consequently, makes me unhappy. I hate seeing her so upset so…defeated…and there's nothing I can do to help her, nothing."

Mrs Hall paused before speaking again. "You can be there for her. As long as she knows that she 'as you for support, that 'as to be 'alf the battle."

"I want to be there for her, I _am_ there for her…" he floundered slightly. "It's not easy."

"I understand," she reached across and squeezed his hand in a gesture of solidarity that surprised him. "It's not easy seeing the ones we love in so much pain, so much anguish. But if she's going to walk again, she needs all the support she can get. She needs to know that you still love 'er, still want 'er, just as you did before."

"I do, of course I do. I…" he met her gaze again and whilst he could see sympathy for him within it, he could also recognise a gentle reminder that he needed to step up, to put his own feelings on the backburner and focus on being there for Lily. "You're right," he said finally. "Perhaps I might be able to fit in a visit this evening after my rounds."

She smiled at him again. "I think that sounds like a splendid idea."

XXXX

On one level, the new hospital was better. Her bed was nearest the window and the outlook was so much more pleasant than it had been in York. The back of the building looked out over the rolling fields and though the trees were still bare from the excesses of winter, she could imagine that, in the summer months, they would be green and luscious and even more spectacular to look at.

Not that she hoped for one moment that she would still be a patient come the summer. She turned her head away from the window and looked towards the door of the ward instead, wondering if Siegfried would come that day. She hadn't seen him for the last two days and though she had tried to tell herself that he was a busy man with a busy practice, she couldn't help but feel slightly put out. Then again, why would he want to see her? She knew even without looking at herself that she was a mess. The nurses did their best, but with many patients to care for, they didn't have the time to spend with her that she might have liked. She could recognise that her hair was in need of washing for one thing, and she was sick and tired of being in a hospital gown. When she had arrived, the handsome young doctor who had greeted her had said that this was a place of convalescence and improvement and therefore she had assumed that, immediately, they would begin working with her, trying to get her legs to work, trying to make her the person she once was. But, in reality, there had been little done, little effort made. It was almost as though everyone there was just forgotten.

"'ello Lily, 'ow are you this afternoon?" Mary, one of the younger nurses approached her bed, a wide smile across her face.

"Same as always," she replied. "Bored."

"I know, it's not easy." Mary fussed around the bed. "I'm just going to change the catheter bag again, all right?"

Lily turned her face away, feeling embarrassment flood through her as it always did. Not being able to walk meant not being able to use the toilet. Although she didn't feel it at the time, it only added to her demoralisation when she happened to see the bag and know it was filled with urine. It was even worse calling for help when she needed a bowel movement. None of the nurses ever said anything, but she always felt her face flame every time.

"There now, that's all better." Mary regarded her carefully. "Is your young man coming to see you today?"

It felt strange hearing Siegfried referred to as her 'young man' being all that much older, indeed than Mary herself. "I'm not sure. Maybe."

"'e's very 'andsome."

"I suppose 'e is."

"You don't sound too sure. I can tell you, there's plenty of other young ladies around 'ere who would snap 'im up. You'd best keep 'im on a tight rein."

Lily knew the words were said in jest and yet she couldn't help but suddenly compare herself to those women she knew Mary was referring to. Young, able-bodied women, women who could offer Siegfried everything now that she couldn't. "Maybe one of them should take him," she said bluntly.

"Now, don't be like that," Mary chided her. "'e's only got eyes for you."

"I'm surprised you can tell." She knew she sounded bitter, but in that moment she didn't care. "I don't know what 'e sees in me now."

"'e sees the same person you were before this 'appened."

"But I'm not, am I?" Tears sprang into her eyes. "I'm not the same person. I'm never going to _be_ the same person again. Why would 'e want that? Why would 'e want me?" She began crying before she could stop herself, shrugging off the other woman's offer of a friendly arm. "I don't want your sympathy. I don't want anything except to be able to walk. That's all I want."

Mary stepped back and sighed. "I'll 'ave the doctor come and speak to you. I know things aren't progressing as you'd like right now, Lily, but these things take time. If you're going to be able to walk again…"

" _If!_ That's all anyone ever says, if!" she put her hands over her face. "I 'ate this! I 'ate this place, I 'ate you, I 'ate myself!" Darkness enveloped her as she continued to sob, Mary's voice drowned out by her own cries.

It was all just so bloody unfair.

XXXX

It was almost seven o'clock by the time Siegfried arrived at the hospital. His day had been longer than he had anticipated, and Mrs Hall had practically thrown his evening meal at him before pushing him out of the door. During the short drive down, he had steeled himself to think positively, to act positively around Lily, to make her see that he was there, fully supportive, and ready to take on the challenges he knew lay ahead.

As he entered the hospital, he caught sight of one of the nurses by the door and turned to her with a smile. "Good evening. It's Mary, isn't it?"

"'ello Mr Farnon," she replied, "I take it you've come to see Lily."

"Yes, indeed." He held up the flowers he had purchased earlier. "I hope it's not too late?"

"No, not at all." Her smile dropped slightly. "I'm afraid she's not had a very good day today."

"Why? What's happened?"

"Nothing, and I think that's the problem. She's not making any progress as of yet. I've tried to explain to 'er that these things take time but…well…"

"Yes, I know it must be frustrating for her. I suppose it's something we all take for granted, isn't it? Walking, I mean."

Mary nodded. "I think she feels a bit low in general. No doubt seeing you should perk 'er up a bit. Would you like me to take those and put them in some water? I can bring them round when they're ready."

"Oh, yes please, thank you," he handed them over and then continued on his way, entering the ward quietly. Lily's bed was at the far end and, as he approached, he saw that she was turned away, her gaze on the window. "Lily?" She started and looked over her shoulder at him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"I didn't know you were coming," she said, her tone almost accusatory. "I didn't realise….I didn't know…" with seemingly great effort, she righted herself in the bed, her hands straying to her hair. "I look a fright."

"You look perfectly lovely," he dropped a kiss on her cheek.

"You don't 'ave to lie."

"I'm not lying," he replied, sitting down next to her and taking her hand in his. "I'm a terrible liar, so you would be able to tell if I were. How have you been today?"

"Same as every day," she shrugged.

"Have you been working on your exercises?" The doctor had previously explained that part of the therapy was having Lily work on exercise in her bed, designed to hopefully strengthen the muscles in her legs, keep them from wasting and bring back some feeling.

"What's the point?" she snorted derisively. "I can't feel anything. My brain keeps willing them to move and they won't. I'm never going to walk again. Maybe I should just accept that."

He paused, picking his next words carefully. "You shouldn't give up, my darling. The doctor here said that there's no evidence that your spine is so damaged as to make you unable to _ever_ walk again, just that it might take time."

"Dr Wright told me I was a cripple."

"Yes well, I think his bedside manner left a lot to be desired quite frankly. One can be blunt without being cruel. Ah…" he sat back as Mary approached carrying a vase. "I brought you some flowers."

Lily looked between them. "You gave them to 'er?"

"I said I'd put them in some water for you Lily," Mary said, putting the vase down on the small table beside the bed. "Aren't they pretty? Such lovely colours."

"Maybe you should just keep them for yourself?"

"Lily!" Siegfried exclaimed.

"What?" she replied pettily, meeting his gaze. "She's young, pretty and she can walk. You'd be far better giving them to 'er."

"If you'll excuse me…" Mary said, moving backwards from the bed and out of earshot.

"That was rude," he said when they were alone again. "Mary's a very good nurse. She's been nothing but kind to you."

"Well, she thinks you're handsome so maybe she's just keeping in with me to get to you."

He paused, stunned at her thinking. "I don't believe that for a moment."

"Don't you?" her eyes flashed angrily. "Why are you even here?"

"I…"

She pulled her hand from his. "I 'aven't seen you in two days."

"I still have a practice to run, darling. I still have patients to tend to." It seemed like a terrible excuse and yet it was the only one he had. "I come as often as I can."

"When you feel obligated to, you mean. I bet Audrey made you come tonight, didn't she?"

He paused again, struck by the accuracy of her statement and shameful for the truth of it. "No," he lied, "not at all."

"Liar. You said you were a terrible liar, and you are. It's written all over your face! I don't know why you bothered to come, why you ever bother to come. You can't possibly still think of me now as you once did. You can't possibly still love me the way that you did before this ever happened!"

The anger and despair in her voice shocked him, and he found himself shaking his head, almost like a puppet on a string. "That is not true. Lily, I love you, of course I love you…"

"You don't, you can't!" Tears flooded her eyes. "What am I now? Nothing! I'm just a shell of the person that I was before! I can't do anything for myself! I can't even go to the bathroom without needing a tube or someone to 'elp me! I'm not Lily anymore and I never will be again!"

"Please, please don't say that," he said desperately, reaching for her hand again. "You _are_ still Lily. You're still the vibrant, engaging, clever, beautiful woman that I fell in love with even before I knew I had. Nothing could ever change that. You are still the woman I want to be with. You are still the woman I want to marry."

"Well maybe I don't want to marry you," she wiped her hand across her eyes. "Maybe I don't want to be with you at all."

He froze, feeling his whole body chill at her words. Despite the misgivings he had had himself, despite the thoughts that had plagued him in his darkest moments, he had never considered for one moment that she could possibly want what she was suggesting. "You don't mean that. You're tired, darling, and upset and I know that…"

"Stop patronising me! Everyone patronises me! You, me dad, the nurses and doctors, everyone!" Her voice was raised now such as to call the attention of other patients on the ward. "You're all as bad as bloody Dr Bellamy calling me 'little' Lily all my life! Only now I'm 'poor' Lily, 'broken' Lily, 'crippled' Lily! I bet everyone in Darrowby is talking about me, laughing at me, thinking that I got my comeuppance! I'm no use to anyone now, so why don't you just do me a favour and leave me alone!"

"Lily…"

"Just go!" her hand swept out suddenly, knocking the vase from the table and causing it to smash, the water spilling out onto the floor. "Go and take your bloody flowers with you!"

Siegfried stepped back as Mary came hurrying over. "What's 'appened 'ere?" she asked calmly. "Oh dear. I'd better get a broom and sweep this up."

"Or better still, let 'er 'ave them! She could be a wife to you, far more than I ever can now!" Lily descended into sobs again, her hands going over her face, her whole body shaking. He found himself torn between what he knew he should do and what she wanted him to do. Seeing her like this, so desperately unhappy, so full of self-loathing pierced him and he moved forward again, intending on taking her in his arms, holding her fiercely and telling her that he was there to stay and that was an end to it. "Don't touch me!" she shrieked, pulling her hands away and fixing him with the wild look of someone who had completely lost all control. "Don't you touch me!"

"I think it might be best if you leave, Mr Farnon," Mary said as she returned to the bed. "Lily's very tired. I'm sure she'll feel better in the morning."

"Yes…" he heard his voice barely carry as he stepped back. "Perhaps…perhaps that would be for the best…" he swallowed hard against the lump that had risen in his throat. "I…I love you Lily, I do…"

"Go away!" she screamed. "Go away!"

He turned away then, leaving Mary to move forward to try and comfort her and, putting one foot in front of the other, headed for the door. Once outside, and back in the safety and quiet of his car, he realised that he himself was shaking.

And then the tears came.


End file.
